Born of the Taint
by LarenCousland
Summary: Her love is to strong to watch him sacrifice himself, but can she give him away to another woman even for a night? PC Dalish/ Alistair and more.
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, this is my first ever Fanfic! So before you read, I just wanted to say a few things. Number 1, Thanks for reading!!! Number 2, Sometimes my grammar royally sucks. I feel the need to apologize in advance for this, but sometimes I am exhausted. I will have it be known that I used the spell and grammar check in word. However, I am fully aware that they can only do so much. Number 3, I did do my own spin on the games dialogue, so please don't hate me for it. I love the game, I just wanted to make this story a little more my own. And lastly, Number 4, I do not own right to Dragon Age Origins. I assume all respective rights to Bioware, Ea, and the respective developer's on making such an awesome game. So enjoy reading, and leave me some constructive criticism on my grammar if it becomes to much like a train wreck!**_

_"I never knew  
I never knew that everything was falling through  
That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue  
To turn and run when all I needed was the truth  
But that's how it's got to be  
It's coming down to nothing more than apathy  
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see  
The smoke and who's still standing when it clears_

Everyone knows I'm in  
Over my head  
Over my head"

_"Over my Head" The Fray. _

Morrigan was still talking, but I could no longer make out the words. I could feel my heart breaking while the witch spoke to me about another way. Already I had consigned to give my lover to another woman, only to find that our only way out was tragedy. Morrigan's words at first had given me such a surge of hope that upon learning the true intentions I felt as if I were quickly sinking in despair. I would have to give him away twice, or one of us had to die. We were to die eventually, I knew that shortly after my Joining, but that still gave us a good thirty years together. I felt cheated, and robbed of my own life.

Quickly I had to remind myself that were it not for Duncan, I would be dead anyway. Besides, did he not absent-mindedly give me the greatest gift? Morrigan was staring, bringing me back to the cruel reality of the situation at hand.

"Well?" said the witch coldly, as if this were all up to me. I swallowed a lump in my throat, feeling a blush creep it's way the tips of my ears.

"I have to speak with Alistair first…" I trailed off. What would I say to him? _'It's your lucky day! You get to have ritual sex with Morrigan! Doesn't that sound like fun?' _

I felt bile rising in my throat, and had to swallow quickly lest I be sick on the witch's shoes. Morrigan sneered at me, an expression I had grown familiar from months of contact. The look she gave me meant that she disapproved and thought me weak.

"Well, then you had better be on your way. Come back and speak with me after, let me know your decision." She said lightly, and waved a hand at me as if she were dismissing an obnoxious child. I turned then; feeling as if each step I took towards the door weighed the same as Shale. Every movement I made felt so completely surreal, I began to wonder if I was dreaming it all up.

The click of the door's latch striking home made me jump a little, and I realized that this wasn't just a bad dream. It was horribly real, and horribly difficult. I walked down the hall, a walk that seemed to last forever. I had to stop just a few feet away from his door when I realized I was trembling. Surely I wasn't about to do this, I thought bitterly. Tomorrow I will lead Ferelden into battle, and one of us will give our lives for the greater good. It was our duty as Grey Warden's. Our duty… I suddenly loathed the meaning of the word. Leaning against the stone wall, his door but a few feet from me, I was reminded of our conversation just a few days prior.

_"Are you sure this is right?" He asked me, waking me with a start. I had fallen asleep with his arms around me, but from the chill I realized without turning over that he was not next to me any longer. I rolled gently to my left side to face him, pulling the wolf pelt over me to cover my nakedness. He didn't have to remind me of the subject, I knew what weighed on his mind. The thoughts weighed even more heavily on my own, the weight of them crushing me so that at times I felt my heart my just stop beating. His back was to me, and I stared at the muscled flesh with awe. How can something so strong be so very gentle?_

_"I don't know if I can do this Edana…" He said, knowing I was awake now. I sighed deeply, silently hoping he would just go back to sleep and forget about the decisions we had just made. We had just left Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim and set up camp a few miles outside of the city. The sounds of the city made me feel claustrophobic, and I wanted to sleep outside on the ground. Having been born Dalish, I had known no other luxuries than those of nature. Nothing was more comforting to me than the feel of the ground under my body. "Are you listening to me?" He said shortly, not even attempting to mask the annoyance in his voice. I sighed again, and sat up holding the wolf pelt to my chest._

_"You can Alistair. It is your duty to be King." I said softly, reaching one ivory hand out to stroke his tanned back. "Bother duty!" He exclaimed, turning to me suddenly. His brown eye were a light with passion and defiance, a surprising change from the loyal and compassionate eyes I had come to love. "I did not choose to be a Royal bastard, Maric did that for me. This was never meant for me! I will be a terrible King and you know it! And to arrange a marriage between I and Anora… Well, the thought just sickens me. Did you know she called me his 'twin'? She is an insufferable woman, and I cannot commit to spend five minutes with her let alone my life…"_

_I had to stop him, "You cannot talk like that. You have taught me that duty comes before everything Alistair. Before friendship, before love, we must uphold our vigil. You cannot change your mind now, not when we need you the most."_

_He snarled, gritting his teeth so loudly that it made me wince. I felt heartbroken enough already, and his anger made the weight of my decision even more abrasive. He dropped his head, as if he refused to look at me. I reached out to him, tracing his jaw line with my ivory fingers, forcing him to look at me. "My love, if I could have it any other way I would. But you know in your heart this is the way it is to be. I can never be queen, and Ferelden would hate you for deserting your obligation. I would rather die than know that loving me has separated you from your convictions."_

_He looked at me painfully, "But this means I have to have an heir. I have to marry and… you know… with Anora. I never wanted to be with anyone but you!" No longer can I fight back the tears that have been threatening to fall. I shake my head at the thought, trying to erase the image of Alistair entangled with Anora. "You must do it Alistair. It is your blood right. I will always be here by your side, as a lover, a friend, and your general… What ever you need me for I shall never leave." I closed my eyes, feeling the hot salty tears run down my cheeks, settling on my lower lip._

_I felt his rough hand brush away the tears, and his gentle lips upon mine kissing them away. I fought to contain the few choked sobs that threatened to escape me, but I failed miserably at the task. "Do you promise?" He asked simply. I opened my own topaz colored eyes to meet his lovely chocolate ones. "With all that I am." I answered weakly. His smiled sadly, and kissed me again, releasing that same feeling of intense passion within me. I put my hand on the back of his head, and felt as his own hands were filled with a handful of my ebony hair. Together we lay down together, and once again gave into our insatiable needs._

I realized that I was crying, silently sobbing in the stillness of the hallway. I wanted to beat the wall in my anger; I wanted to scream at the Gods. I wanted to tear the castle down stone for stone. I crossed my arms over my exposed midriff, and leaned into the wall to give into my sobs.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Enjoy!_**

* * *

_"Do or die, you'll never make me  
Because the world will never take my heart  
Though you try, you'll never break me  
We want it all, we wanna play this part_

_Won't explain or say I'm sorry  
I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar  
Give a cheer for all the broken  
Listen here, because it's only_

_I'm just a man, I'm not a hero  
Just a boy who wanna sing his song  
Just a man, I'm not a hero  
I don't care!"_

_'Welcome to the Black Parade' - My Chemical Romance_

For a moment she was awed, amazed by the surge of pride and glory. She felt drunk with power, her limbs a-fire with the anticipation of the battle to come. He stood to her side, speaking the army before her. She could see each man's chest swell as his words echoed through the air. "For Ferelden!" He bellowed, and like a great thunderclap the voices of the men before him roared the words. "For the Grey Wardens!" He bellowed, and charged into battle. Drawing her two blades, she bellowed, "CHARGE!" The power of this fury, this fiery need to finally end the blight. This glorious battle, it sang with words of blood. The opposing army charged back, every racing footstep brought the darkspawn closer. She felt rage bubbling at her heart, rage for all the things that have befallen. Rage for the death of Tamlen, rage for all of the horrors they had seen. The cruel irony of her future laughed at her from within, and soon she was ahead of even Alistair. As the first Darkspawn came into range she swung with deadly intent, her throat echoing a mighty scream. She shuddered with sweet release as the blade lopped off the creature's head with one clean swipe. Edana's screams were so powerful that even her allies feared her this moment, yet they followed in her tracks. Soon the ground was black with the blood of each army, and the air was filled with the clashing of swords.

* * *

_She had been standing in the hall for what seemed like ages, her sobs finally tapering off and her eyes drying. She thought of Tamlen, of her clan. One hand traveled up to the clan tattoo's on her forehead, fingers tracing them ever so gently. She thought of her homeland, and of the new family she had made with her travel mates. She thought of the first Blight. Despite the deaths of thousands, and one Grey warden's ultimate sacrifice the Blight had still returned four hundred years later. Who's to say that once the Archdemon is slain, she mused, that another blight would not find us? She pondered over Morrigan's offer, and her love for Alistair. Wynne was right, she thought, Love is selfish. She closed her eyes for a moment, and mustered up all the rage she could. She told herself that no matter what; she would never have what she wished. He was human, she elfin. Love was something she could do without, and she would make him do this. For the survival of all, she would make him do this. And she would hate herself forever._

* * *

The Ogre stomped its way through the army, knocking men over with each mighty blow. Sten and Oghren both were at each flank, sinking sword and axe into its tainted flesh. With a giant arm, it swung and sent Sten flying. Turning to Oghren, it charged, knocking him off his feet. She turned, and charged the thing. Shale, her golem companion, was hunched over pounding a Hurlock into the pavement. "Shale!" She yelled, charging at him. The giant golem looked at Edana first, and then at the ogre. The golem began to pound the ground, stunning the ogre with the mini earthquake he created. Edana sprung into the air just before she reached the ogre, both swords in a deadly swing. She plunged each blade into the monsters chest, pulling herself up with each stab. As she reached its face, the monster roared at her in anger and pain. With a roar of her own, she pulled a dagger from her belt and sank it into the beast's eye. The best fell backwards, taking Edana with it. The ground rumbled as it fell, knocking those near it off their feet. The beast mewled beneath her, as she pulled her blade from its chest and slit its monstrous throat. As the last of the darkspawn lie dead at the gates, Edana turned to Riordan. Her chest heaving with anger, he regarded his fellow warden with surprise. "Regroup!" She ordered, flicking each blade and sending blood flying with each movement. She sheathed them momentarily, and came to stop before them. As soon as they were around her, she looked to Riordan.

"We need a plan to lure the dragon." He said calmly, regarding the commanding Warden with curiosity. "Then we must find some high ground," she replied heavily, still catching her breath from the small battle they had won. Riordan nodded, as the rest of her party joined her. Riordan pointed at the ominous shadow of Fort Drakon in the distance, and Edana nodded. Alistair looked at them both with wide eyes, "You mean to lure him to the Fort?" Edana looked at Alistair with cold eyes, a look her had not seen before and he grew quiet when her glare befell him. "You may stay behind if you like," She said icily, "but I am going to the Fort." Riordan then informed her of the Darkspawn General's and how they must be dispatched. Edana turned to her comrades, and to the armies behind her. She divided the group, sending a small portion of the troops to each part of Demerit. She turned to each of her comrades, and said nothing. She needn't speak, her eyes told them all she was feeling. With small nods, they all left her.

* * *

Alistair, Wynne, Morrigan, and Topaz the war hound were the only ones left lingering. "I want you to watch the gate…" She said to Alistair, swallowing the regret she felt the minute she said it. Alistair choked on the potion he was gulping, spinning to face her with surprise painted on his handsome features. "Wh-What?!" he exclaimed, trying to read her face for an expression. She showed him no emotion, her eyes as blank as they were the first time they had met. "You are just trying to keep me out of the battle!" He said angrily, suddenly enraged with her change in character. She shook her head sternly, and then looked at Riordan. "Alistair will stay behind and defend the gate. We cannot put the King in harm's way, Grey Warden or no. If we fall, he must defeat the Archdemon and end the Blight." Riordan nodded in compliance. "A wise choice. Now let us go." Edana started to follow Riordan, when Alistair quickly grabbed her by the hand. "Are you not even going to say goodbye?" He asked her pleadingly. She regarded him for a moment, a warm feeling washing over her. She wanted to kiss him, and tell her that she would forever love him. She could not do it, not in front of the eyes of the men around them. He was the King, he was betrothed, and she was an Elf. She kept her stony look, even as her heart screamed out to him 'I love you!' "There is no need for goodbye's your Majesty, I do not intend to fail." She pulled away quickly then, leaving him standing in a cloud of confusion before her resolve faded away.

* * *

_"WHAT!?" He exclaimed, his eyes wide with confusion. Edana only blinked at him in annoyance, 'Why is he always so dramatic...' Her heart was aching in her chest, but she did not show it. "Are you telling me that I am to impregnate Morrigan in some apostate's magical sex ritual?" Edana rolled her eyes as he paced around heatedly. "I can't do that, Edana! I mean... its Morrigan!!!" Her patience was wearing thin now, and she just wants to get it over with. "You will do it Alistair." She said firmly, stopping him in his tracks. He whirled around to face her, hurt painted on his face. "No I refuse! I do not wish to do this. There has got to be another way. We need to talk to Riordan again. There has to be something else we can…"_

_"The one of us dies." She said to him sharply. He stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "Are you really asking me to do this?" He asked. Edana closed her eyes for a moment, and mustered up her remaining courage. "No Alistair, I am telling you to do this. For Ferelden and your people." He regarded her silently for a few moments. "Fine, let's get this over with before I change my mind..." he said with a shudder. She didn't want to go back to Morrigan and listen to the mage again, and as soon as she could she quickly made an exit. She stood in the hallway with her heart pounding in her ear when the light faded from under the door. A small arcane glow was all that remained as a source of light, and Edana died inside when she heard the cries of pleasure emit from the room. Turning on her heel, she left. She would sleep outside with the dogs tonight._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Going to try something different here guys. This is something I do on my blog frequently, post with lyrics between each set of paragraphs. I do this because it means that said song inspired it. I hope you guys enjoy, and that you don't think it to silly.**_

_**Song: From Yesterday - 30 Seconds to Mars..**_

* * *

_"He's a stranger to some_

_And a vision to none_

_He can never get enough,_

_Get enough of the one_

_For a fortune he'd quit_

_But it's hard to admit_

_How it ends and begins_

_On his face is a map of the world_

_(A map of the world)"_

* * *

He closed his eyes tightly, his heart sinking as she padded off towards the looming shadow of Fort Drakon. He stare, her words, they were so cold towards him. He suddenly feels sick to his stomach as he thinks, _'No Goodbye'_. He thinks of the night before, his rendezvous with Morrigan. He had tried so not to like it, but the magic did something to him. When it was over he had felt dirty, dressing with speed and leaving before giving Morrigan a chance to speak. He had gone to his room, hoping he didn't have to see her on the way and thankful that she was nowhere to be seen. His sleep was restless, when he finally fell into slumber the night was nearly over. When he woke, he had tried to avoid seeing Edana. Luckily for him, she was nowhere to be seen. But as they marched into battle, and she met them at the front lines all he wanted to do was hold her. She didn't even look at him, and he chocked it up to being nervous.

As she strode off however his confusion set in. What had he done wrong? She told him that he needed to do this, that it was his duty to do it. And as payment he received an icy shoulder and blank stares. He swallowed as he opened his eyes to see she was no longer in his line of sight. This was her way of saying goodbye, he thought. He knew she was leaving, possibly going to her death. He was listening to the voices of the men, one of them spouting on about how he never thought an ELF would lead an Army. He gritted his teeth in realization. After this battle, it was over for them. He was to be crowned, married, and pushed into the public spotlight. She would be the leader of the Fereldan Grey Warden's. Their races prevented them from ever being together as long as he was a nobleman. Alistair closed his eyes tightly and thought deeply. A horn sounded signaling the enemies approach. He pulled his sword from its scabbard and waited angrily for the darkspawn to come into range.

* * *

_"From yesterday, it's coming!_

_From yesterday, the fear!_

_From yesterday, it calls him_

_But he doesn't want to read the message here"_

* * *

The men were standing around him in a circle; staring at the man they would soon call their King. He was covered in blood, the wave of darkspawn the sent to him gathered in bodies around him. His face, blade, and armor dripped with blood. Teagan regarded Alistair with careful eyes, hardly believing that this man and the boy he had helped raise were the same. Alistair wiped his sword one of the fallen darkspawn at his feet. "Ban Teagan, defend the gate." Teagan spluttered at this command, "Your grace, the other warden-" Alistair waived a hand to silence him, turning blood stained face to him. "This is as much my fight as it is hers and Riordan's. I am a Grey Warden before I am King, and I vowed to uphold my duty the day I took my oath." Teagan shook his head in protest, "Sire, she agreed to keep you safely out of the battle. Eamon and the others all agreed...." Alistair's eyes grew angry causing Teagan to pause and shift uncomfortably. "So this was the plan then?" Alistair snorted, laughing bitterly. He sheathed his sword, and began walking towards the palace district.

* * *

_"On a mountain he sits, not of gold but of sin_

_Through the blood he can look, see the life that he took_

_From council of one_

_He'll decide when he's done with the innocent_

_On his face is a map of the world_

_(A map of the world)_

_On his face is a map of the world_

_(A map of the world)"_

* * *

She had thrown her bow down long ago, using her two blades to hack through the darkspawn. They had reached the Archdemon, but the darkspawn just kept coming. She would not fail, would not fail. She thought of Tamlen, and she screamed her rage again slicing at the dragon's hindquarters. She heard a cry of pain, and was distracted for only a moment as she watched Wynne fall. The hound was doing its best to keep the Darkspawn off of her. She suddenly felt hopeless, and the distraction was enough for her not to see the beast swing its massive tail. She was thrown to the ground, the wind escaping her and leaving her feel panic for a moment. Her left arm tingled from the shoulder to the wrist, and she didn't have to try to move it to know it was now broken and torn. She tried to catch her breath, forming great whooping gasps but her lungs just wouldn't hold any air. In her daze she thought she smelled the forest, and felt the grass beneath her. Home, she thought, I am home? The feeling quickly left but the smell of the earthy woods lingered around her. _Ancestors... _she thought for a moment. A roar from above her brought her attention back to the dragon, and she saw it inhale deeply as it readied to breathe its blue fire over her. She rolled, trying to get up but her arm and shoulder injuries prevented her from doing this easily. _'This is it...'_ she thought for a second, cringing as the Dragon exhaled.

Her eyes were closed tightly, but there was this noise. It took her a few seconds to realize that her skin was not on fire, however she could feel the unbearable heat. She opened her eyes, and saw Alistair crouched before her, his shield held up deflecting the fiery blast. He was screaming in pain, the heat of the dragons fire heating the metal shield and his armored arm. He could feel the skin of his arm beginning to blister, and the pain of the burn was great. The dragon turned its head in Morrigan's direction then, as the mage cast a blizzard spell that drew its attention from the two wardens. Edana got to her feet then, she couldn't let the dragon kill Morrigan or all that she fought for would be lost. Alistair flung the shield from him, "Bloody hell! Anyone have any marshmallows?" he said sarcastically. She ignored him, drawing a blade with her good arm and charging the dragon. She swung the long sword, using all of her remaining strength to sink it into the dragon's neck. Fire spewed out over the blade, and she had to quickly jump out of the way lest she be burned again. The dragon writhed; it's black blood showering those around it like a black rain. It fell onto its side; the force of it rumbling the entire fort and causing everyone to lost their footing. Edana got to her feet first. She grabbed up the first blade she saw, and walked to the dragon. It still lived, and its red eyes followed her movements. She swore she could almost hear a voice in her head, granting her everything she wished if she would let it live. She had an odd vision of herself on the throne, Alistair at her side wearing the crown. There was another of her people, and a new home to call their own. She shook her head firmly; she knew the cost of these desires. In silence, Edana raised the blade and sank it deeply into the Dragon's skull.

* * *

_"From yesterday, it's coming_

_From yesterday, the fear_

_From yesterday, it calls him_

_But he doesn't wanna read the message here"_

* * *

A white piercing light was all he could see, but he knew what had just happened. She had sealed the future of the land. He could hear her screaming, engulfed in the white light. Then the explosion as the dragon's soul was released, he saw her body hurling through the air before landing on the rooftop with a sickening crash. There was the hum of magic in the air, but he didn't have time to ponder it before it was gone. He stood, and looked at the carnage around him. It was done, over; the blight had ended. He could scarcely believe it. His joy was replaced with worry as he realized Edana was no longer moving. Quickly he was by her side, his eyes surveying her and looking for any signs of life. She seemed to be bleeding from every body part, but he could see her chest rising and falling weakly. Trying to ignore the pain of his singed arm, he scooped her up into his arms. Looking behind him, he saw Cullen helping the injured Wynne to her feet. The remaining darkspawn were retreating, and so he worried not of an ambush. Topaz, the Mabari, limped over to Alistair and whined at him worriedly. Alistair only nodded at the hound, and carried his love through Fort Drakon. He walked through the open doors only to be greeted by the roar of victory.


	4. Chapter 4

**_you almost always pick the best times  
to drop the worst lines  
you almost made me cry again this time  
another false alarm  
red flashing lights  
well this time I'm not going to watch myself die  
I think I made it a game to play your game  
and let myself cry  
I buried myself alive on the inside  
so I could shut you out  
and let you go away for a long time_**

**_Buried Myself Alive - The Used_**

* * *

Light. There was that blinding light again. It shone on her face, and though her eyes were closed she could feel it piercing her eyeballs. She furrowed her brow and tried to open her eyes. She was surprised that her eyelids felt like tiny boulders on her face and decided to be complacent with eyes closed for now. She felt warmth on her face, and realized that the light was merely sunlight. She lie there for a few moments, listening to the sounds of the room. She heard snoring, and with the light shining in her face it made her head begin to hurt. "Alistair, roll over…." She creaked, surprised by how dry her mouth was. The snoring stopped for a moment, and then resumed. She noticed it was not quite the same pitch. The pounding in her head became more prominent, and she became aware of the state of her body. Her arm from shoulder to wrist felt like it had been replaced with a burning piece of wood, and her midsection felt as if a swarm of angry bees had been loosed upon it. She tried to sit up but realized that she could not. And still someone continued on with all that damned snoring.

"For the love of Andraste, would you wake up?" she asked, forcing her voice out. The snoring stopped abruptly, and she sighed contentedly. "Thank the maker…" she squeaked. She forced her eyes open now, and was greeted by a world that exsisted in a blurr of hazy watercolors. "Tamlen?" she asked, her head clouding with confusion. "I have heard this name several times while you slept, but sorry to disappoint you. I am no Tamlen." She recognized this voice and felt welcomed by the thick Antivan accent. "Zevran? Where in heavens name are we?" The Antivan elf smiled to himself, looking down at his friend with affection. "We are in the former Residence of Howe, the King gave it to the Grey Warden's upon the cessation of the Blight. Wynne brought you here. Apparently the Grey Warden's had an excellent physician and since the castle's healers were not making progress, she felt they deserved a try." She blinked again, trying to think through the cloud of pain. "That means they have already arrived rom Weisshaupt," a journey that would have taken several weeks. "How long have I been out?"

"Eighteen long days." Zevran replied. "I told them they had but to let me kiss you, and you would have awakend sooner. But everytime I try Wynne gives me such a lecture. I keep trying to tell them that when you are as pretty as I the girls wish to awaken by your kiss." Edana smiled to herself through the fog of pain, she was glad Zevran would never change. Zevran observed her, and sighed inwardly. He could not tell why, but he harbored such affection for the Warden, seeing her awake made him feel as if a thousand pounds had been lifted from his heart. He knew her love for Alistair was great, and he vowed to be her friend. But feeling drawn to her was something he could not help. She had been the first real friend he had ever had. "Why does it feel as if I have been swimming in a pool filled with wasps…" she asked him, disrupting his train of thought. "Well, you did fight a dragon. Did you expect to charge into battle and come out uninjured? Surely that would be something Alistair would have thought and not you." He smirked at her. Edana felt her breath catch in her throat at the mention of his name. She pushed herself past it, and inquired as to her state. "So my injuries were extensive then?" Zev noticed her change of subject and noted it silently. "You could say that. They say your arm was broken quite well, and Wynne thinks you may have cracked your head a bit hard. Not to mention the broken ribs. I was right, you are very hard to kill." Little beads of perspiration had started to gather on her forehead. "Now, if you will excuse me I think I shall fetch the physician. Sweating is not become of a lady, unless she is accompanying me to my tent…."

Edana groaned at his jokes, but welcomed them. Annoyance meant she would live, and she could handle that gladly. "Would you like me to send word to the King and Queen that you are awake?" Zevran asked. Edana felt as if someone had punched her in the stomache. "Queen? The wedding is already over?" Zevran felt a pang of regret for a fleeting moment, and then took full advantage of the situation. "Yes, it was a hurried ceremony. Apparently your simpleminded friend is no good at leading, and his new bride is. They wanted to make it official quickly so he could get back to doing a whole lot of nothing. They have taken a royal honeymoon to Highever, but I am certain a messenger could catch up with them there." Edana fought back tears, and found that doing so only made her head hurt worse. She noticed she was now trembling from the pain. "So shall I send word?" he asked again, holding the door open now. "No. Zevran I would prefer it if we kept this to ourselves." He felt a surge of hope, and stepped from the room. Edana was awake long enough to drink a potion before falling back into deep sleep for another two days.

* * *

In the coming of weeks, she began to slowly recover. She found herself being visited by all sorts of new faces, coming to know them as her comrades from another world. They were all in the same order together, and she accepted them as brethren. After a while she was able to get out of bed and move about, though she was still sore. Wynne clucked over her like a mother hen, and she was welcomed by the fact that her travel mates had remained with her. The man that led the movement of wardens was a burly berserker name Marik. He was about the size of Sten, though obviously human. He reminded her daily of how he could not believe a girl as tiny as he had defeated the Archdemon. On the eve of her first meeting, she gazed into a sea of faces that were painted with questions. How had she survived killing it? She waved it off as if she didn't know. They asked what she planned to do, looking to her as their new leader. She cleared her throat, and looked out over the sea of faces. "We rebuild. We survive. We protect the innocent people of this land from the Darkspawn." Approval shone on the faces of those in front of her. "We will set up an Official Headquarters at Soldier's Peak. It has been regained and it threat free. It will serve our needs now as it did in days of old. The compound in Denerim will be run by Marik."

Several days later, she was leading a party of Warden's through the Ferelden countryside on horseback. She was a bit angered that they would not let her travel as they did, and she was forced to sit on such a large animal, but agreed after a while it was necessary. Though it did anger her tender ribs. Shale, Zevran, and her hound were the only ones that decided to accompany her and the new Wardens to their keep. On the third day, after the camp had been set up, Shale approached Edana. "Why does it suddenly travel without the other Warden?" Edana looked at shale with confusion. "There are Warden's a-plenty here Shale, has your eyesight gone bad?" The Golem huffed, "I see other Wardens, but I was talking about the loud and obnoxious one. Why does it suddenly leave it behind? Surely it needs to stand beside it and hold it's hand. Leaving a Kingdom to one such as it is seems an irresponsible decision." Zevran was seated on the other side of Edana, being the only person she knew well here. He saw a line of color rise from her neck to the tips of her elfin ears. "If you are talking of Alistair, he has a wife now, Shale. I have no doubt that the new Queen is more than capable of assisting him… Or making rational decisions." Shale regarded his friend with a certain curiosity. "Is this what they call jealousy? Surely it is not jealous of the human woman. Now it does not have to hear the simple-one's terrible puns." Zevran let out a laugh from where he sat next to her, nearly choking on the rabbit leg he was eating. She shot him a nasty glare, and then answered Shale. "No Shale, this is not jealousy. Alistair is King now, and he has duties to attend to elsewhere. I am Senior Grey Warden and I have my own duties to attend to. I do not have time to compete with the likes of human politics when there are far more pressing issues at hand. Shale grew silent for a moment before ending with "Well, it is good the obnoxious one is gone. It often made me feel as if I needed to crush its head in it's sleep…"

* * *

Alistair locked himself in his room, and let out a simple sigh of relief. He had been forced to travel the countryside with Anora for six long months. Being married to her was just as terrible as he thought it would be, as she was constantly nagging at him. When they were but a few days from Denerim, she began lecturing him on how he behaved at Arl Mcneil's house, and how he should be taking more interest in the events of the land. By that point he was so sick of her that he would have given his crown to the nearest beggar if he would be freed of her. "I thought you wanted to lead this kingdom?" He snarled at her. "Why can't you be as Cailan was?" She asked him, "He atleast was fit to rule. I'll never be able to figure out why the Landsmeet decided to thrust you upon the throne…" Alistair sighed. Atleast they had one hard part out of the way. Despite the fact that he had the Taint, Alistair proved to be fertile. Queen Anora had greeted him with the news of the coming child several months after their marriage. Now all he had to do was pray it was a male child and they would never have to endure each other's bedtime company again. He often sent word to the Warden's compound, attempting to have news on Edana's health. He had received word not long after she had awakened that her health was improving. Now that they were home in Denerim, he would go to see her. He longed to hold her, to kiss her, and to just be alone with her even if it was for a few moments.

* * *

"What do you mean she's gone?" He spluttered at Marik, looking at the man as if he had her stashed in the closet and refused to tell him. Marik regarded the kind with annoyance painted on his very large features. "What did she do, turn into a bloody bird and just high tail it out of here" Marik growled at Alistair. "She is the Head Warden, she goes where she pleases." "So you mean to tell me that you let her just flutter on out of her while she was still injured. And why haven't I been consulted on this? Isn't this something that comes with being King? Information and all that rot?" Marik looked at him with amusement showing on his features. "King maybe, but you are still Junior Warden. You needn't know anything other than where to point your sword." As he left Alistair couldn't help but feel lost.


	5. Chapter 5

_**So, I've been pondering what would happened when a non tainted individual became impregnated by a tainted one. Curiosness.** _

_

* * *

_

_So deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me  
Off guard, red handed  
Now I'm far from lonely  
Asleep I still see you lying next to me  
So deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me I.._

I need something else  
Would someone please just give me  
Hit me, knock me out  
And let me go back to sleep  
I can laugh  
All I want inside I still am empty  
So deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me I...

I'll be just fine  
Pretending I'm not  
I'm far from lonely  
And it's all that I've got

_All that I've Got - The used. _

* * *

Something strange was happening to her, other than the fact her belly was swelling with the child within. There were other things, twisted things. She chocked it up to the changes going on within her body. Little did she realize that this was exactly the problem. She often saw herself thinking of doing things, saying things... And then there were the nightmares. Terrible nightmares. Nightmares of dark places, of screams echoing in the black... She hardly recognized her face in the mirror, her hair brittle and dull. Her eyes had sunken into her face. Her complexion was beginning to turn a sickly gray color. And her attitude was worse, she sometimes felt like sinking her fingernails into the chambermaids throat and tearing it out. And after she did that she thought how wonderful it might feel to put her face into the blood, and drink it... Anora shook her head, as if trying to shake the violent thoughts away. It was only the child, she thought helplessly, surely all women are testy when they become in such a state? She placed her hands on the growing belly in front of her, and immediately despised the child within her.

* * *

Edana grimaced, putting the spoon back down into the bowl and pushing it away. Shemlen's, she thought watching as the other Warden's ate their stew hungrily. No sense of taste. She tried one last bite of the sour tasting stew and gave up. Zevran sat opposite to her in the dining hall, and he couldn't have agreed more. "It does sort of taste as if they boiled it in ale..." He remarked, his own food hardly touched. She smirked at him, and then sighed. This was her home now, and yet she felt as if the walls would swallow her. She had finally had enough of it, and decided she would go hunting. Her arm was healed, and she had stayed indoors entirely to long. Zevran met her outside of her rooms, noting the bow packs strapped to her back. "And just where do you think you are going?" He asked his hands crossed over his chest. She turned to look at him, and saw he also was dressed for the weather. "Do not look so surprised, did you really think I would let such a beautiful woman go off into the wilderness alone?"

Rolling her eyes, she rubber her temples. "Zevran, did you forget that I nearly killed you? I believe I will be fine by myself."

He smirked at her, "How can you dream of being alone when there is someone as beautiful as myself to gawk at." He saw her patience was wearing thin and he laughed. "My dear, I merely wish to come along to get out of the stuffy air. And then there is that little oath I swore to you. I would be a bad companion if I allowed you to get snuffed out by some beastie when I couldn't even finish the job myself."

She was tired of arguing with him. "Fine. Tag along if you wish, but if you do not shut up this instant I may finish what I started..."

* * *

They set up camp in a wood half a days walk from the keep. Zevran had brought a tent, but she hadn't bothered. It was cold here in the mountains, but with the extra wolf pelts she would be fine. She spared no time, as soon as her bedroll was set up; she left Zev to struggle with his tent. She ran through the woods, relishing the feel of the air on her skin. The snow crunching under foot, the sounds of the animals around her. She felt at home. After a while she stopped running, and began scouting. Her face was flushed with the cold, but her body was covered in perspiration. About two miles from camp she came across a hot spring. The smell of sulfur was wonderfully intoxicating, and without thinking she stripped and climbed into the pool. She didn't know how long she floated in the pool, letting the warm lap at her skin. She thought of Alistair for a few moments, and then banished all thought from her mind. They had been a mistake, she should have known from the start that they would never been allowed to be together. Shemlen's and Elvhanen, they coexisted in this world, but they never were meant to mix. She swam to a rock, and laid her face upon its war surface and dozed in the pool.

She became aware that she was being watched. Her back itched as she felt the weight of the other's eyes upon her. She played at this game, listening to the sounds of the forest around her to judge what creature it was. She heard the creak of leather, and smirked. Zevran was creeping amongst the trees, stalking her. She lifted her head then to surprise him, and found a bouquet of wildflowers staring back at her from the snow. She glided through the water, picking up the flowers. All of them were plants that grew in even the coldest climates, Coltsfoot among them, her favorite flower. How had he known? She wondered, I did not tell him. Her nakedness was becoming more apparent to her, and she sighed. "If you think that I am going to get out and give you a free show Zevran, then obviously you do not know me as well as you believed."

Perched in a nearby tree, Zev smiled to himself. "Dear lady I was rather hoping that you would stay in, and permit me to join you." He saw her begin to ponder this, and sighed. "Alright, I will go back to camp and leave you alone. This cold weather reminds me of how much I miss Antiva..." She saw him as he jumped down, and for the first time wondered what it would be like to mold herself against him. His lithe form had always been attractive, and she had known for a long time that he desired her. He reminded her of Tamlen, her friend and love from home. She and Tamlen had grown up together, and she was aware it was merely young love... but she had loved him just the same. As Zevran turned to leave she cleared her throat.

"No Zev... Stay. Please?" He turned around with bewilderment plastered on his face. "Stay and join me." She repeated, smiling at his gawking face. He swallowed, and nodded, and began to strip. She watched for a few moments, before turning her back to him, feeling a blush creep over her face. Covering her face in her hands, she felt a raging desire to giggle and stamped it down deep.

She heard the water ripple as he slipped into the pool behind her. She felt the water ripple as he moved towards her. She trembled slightly with wondering and anticipation. Suddenly he was there at her back, his body gently pressed against hers. She felt a gentle hand move one of her wet lock of hair away, and felt his lips kiss her shoulder. There was a scar there, from the fight with the Archdemon. It was red and angry, throwing off the perfection of her creamy white flesh. She felt a fleeting moment of insecurity before she felt his lips trace the outline of the scar. Realizing she had been holding her breath, she exhaled deeply. His hands danced over hers, and he gently pulled them away from her face. "No need to be bashful..." He whispered into her ear. She shuddered against him, the feel of his breath against her ear rendering her movements involuntary. One tanned hand traced the outline of her jaw and he turned her face to look at him. He gazed into her topaz eyes, judging for any signs of rejection. What he found surprised him further, he saw longing in them and desire. He smiled slightly, and slowly kissed her lips.

He tasted of spices, she thought to herself. Like cloves and cardamom, spicy and exotic. The kiss was soft at first, as if he were still searching for her approval. Then it grows hungrier, and he spins her around to face him. Their body's molded together; she shudders under his hungry and dominant kiss. It is something she has never known; she has only experienced Alistair's gentle... She forces the thought down and meets Zevran's hunger with her own lust now. She wanted anything but gentle, and she shows him so but nipping at his tender lips. He pulls back for a moment, panting against her. "My lady, you are very full of surprises this evening..." He whispers to her, before grabbing her thighs and wrapping her legs around him. She gasped against him, and he pushed her hard into a nearby rock. The woods echo their desire as she gives herself to him willingly.

* * *

She leaned against him afterwards, listening to the beating of his heart. Zevran had never held a woman like so afterward, not the way he was holding her. He was always a bit annoyed at post coital snuggling, but holding her in his arms feels wonderfully right and so he does it as long as she lets him. She soon pulls away, and climbs out of the pool. He watched as she gets dressed, pulls back her wet hair, and dons her weapons. "And just where are you escaping to my pet?" He says looking at her with hungry eyes again. She smiles and blushes, but it quickly fades. "I am hungry. I will be back later." He watches her leave before climbing out of the pool himself and dressing. He walks back to the camp, and started a fire.


	6. Chapter 6

Somehow the last paragraph of my last chapter somehow got royally jacked. So I apologize for it. (If you don't get it read it again, you'll get it."

* * *

_Do you see what we've done?  
We're gonna make such fools of ourselves  
Do you see what we've done?  
We're gonna make such fools of ourselves_

How did we get here?  
I use to know you so well  
How did we get here?  
Well, I use to know you so well

I think I know  
I think I know  
There is something that I see in you  
It might kill me I want it to be true

_Decode - Paramore _

* * *

"She's very ill." Alistair kept his back to the physician, listening to the news with his breath held. "What gave that away? The fact she bit one of her ladies in waiting? Or is that something most woman do in her condition…" He scoffed, reverted back to bad sarcasm as his shield for bad news. 'Dear Maker, what have I done?' he thought, finding it increasingly difficult to swallow the lump in his throat. The physician seemed to be unable to speak anymore, as if being scolded from the King sealed his fate with beheading. Alistair sighed and turned to the man. "I apologize Decker. What of the child?" The physician calmed a little, and then turned a bright shade of scarlet. "I fear that the child would be born an abomination… If she were able to birth it at all."

Alistair swallowed the lump in his throat finally and dismissed the physician. Now he knew why he had never heard of a Grey Warden having children after their joining. Anora had begun to change, and as the pregnancy progressed so did her transformation. She was nearing the halfway mark of her pregnancy, and it became apparent that she could not hide the child's effects on her any longer. The chambermaid had found her crouched in a corner this morning, sobbing and rocking herself. When the girl attempted to help her, the queen had bitten a chunk out of her arm. Currently she was locked in her quarters, a pair of trustworthy guards standing at the door and prohibiting anyone to enter.

It was the taint, and he felt foolish for believing he could have a child with a normal woman. When the taint was not kept in check, it changed people. The child had passed the taint to its mother, and the infected blood was turning her into a monster. He donned his armor, and took up his own sword. He met Eamon and the physician outside of Anora's chambers, her screams echoing through the castle. He had heard those screams before, the screams of the shrieks he had vanquished.

"Are you certain, Alistair?" Eamon asked, looking to the physician for some kind of professional opinion. Alistair nodded gravely, stamping down the rising anger he felt towards his uncle. He wanted to scream at him, to tell him that he should have listened when he said he didn't want to be King. For now, he needed to act his part as Grey Warden, and smite a foe. He looked at the men in the hall, read the confusion on their faces, and regretted his coming actions horribly.

"Men, the thing that is in that room is not Anora. It is an abomination; I need you to remember that. You will see horrible things when we open the door, and were we to let it live it would surely slay many innocent lives within this castle and possibly this city. We do our duty today, and we will speak of to know one." Eamon cleared his throat then, and looked at the men nervously. "It will be told that Anora has died of complications. The things you see in here you will not speak to anyone."

Alistair saw the fear on their faces, and felt his heart sink lower. Was it possible to feel any worse about this? With his sword drawn, he nodded to the guards and they opened the door. He walked into her chamber, finding the furniture smashed beyond belief. Her saw blood on the floor, which was more than likely from the maid this morning. His eyes scanned the room, before he saw her. She was crouched on the floor hidden almost by her large bed. Black shadows seemed to accent every vein, and he could trace them on her flesh like he would a map. Her complexion had turned a mottled purple, and her hair had begun to fall out. She clutched at her belly, moans of pain filling the room as well as her sobs. He walked towards her, and her head snapped up in a predatory manner. She regarded him with dark eyes for a few moments, studying his ever move as a coiled viper would a mouse. He felt sorrow overwhelm him, and he tried to push it away but it ate at him. "You d-did this…" She said, her voice not at all the same as it was just this morning. She saw his sword, and cocked her head to the side. "You would kill me husband?"

Alistair swallowed hard, and raised his sword. "Maker save me…" He pleaded, before bringing the sword down at a deadly arc. The Anora-shriek pounced at this moment, and the blade caught her in the shoulder. She screamed, grabbing his armor and pulling him closer to her. The blade sank into her flesh, straight to the hilt, but she pulled him so close that he was flush against her. "You would kill your child too?" it cackled at him, mocking him and feeding the guilt within him. Alistair threw her off of him, and used his shield to bash at her.

When her movements grew still, he walked from the room weakly. Eamon instructed the guards to clean it up; they would have her body burned before others could see the truth of the situation. Alistair sat upon the stairs, his head in his hands. Eamon approached him, though he had no idea what to say to make sense of the situation. "I am sorry Alistair…" was all he could muster. Alistair stood up with a quickness Eamon did not know he possessed. "Sorry? Gee, thanks Uncle I feel so much better about it. Now that I know you can flap your little hands and make everything disappear, I am feeling royally grateful. Care to get me another wife then? Perhaps the next one won't turn out so badly…" Eamon flinched at his nephew's words, but remained rooted to the spot. Alistair shook his head then. "The Thierin bloodline will have no Heirs, Eamon. I am leaving you in charge as my regent." The King turned and began down the stairs. "Where will you go?" He called after his nephew. Alistair looked up for a few moments, and then answered coldly. "My Duty. I am a Grey Warden, and I have forgotten my place. I will return when I have helped take care of the Darkspawn… Or when I die from fighting."


	7. Chapter 7

_Pain make your way to me, to me.  
And I'll always be just so inviting.  
If I ever start to think straight,  
This heart will start a riot in me,  
Let's start, start, hey!_

Why do we like to hurt so much?  
Oh why do we like to hurt so much?

That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa!

_That's What You Get - Paramore_

* * *

She rarely smiled anymore, and he found himself missing it more often than he cared to admit. He supposed that he loved her, as much as he could anyway. They were each other's substitutes for love; hers was a union that could not be tolerated due to nobility, and his was dead. It was amazing to feel something of the sort again, though they had never shared the pleasantries of telling another what they felt. Still when he thought of loosing her…

Then he just wouldn't think of it. It was going on two years since the Blight had ended, and the Archdemon lie slain. After she recuperated from her injuries, installed a new base for Ferelden, her next task was recruiting. And she would never admit it, but she was searching as well. She often talked of traveling to Orlais, or Antiva though she never would say why. He figured it was to seek out Morrigan, however the Order was just not ready for this yet, she had too much rebuilding to do.

They traveled now to the Dalish Camps deep within the Brecilian Forest to acquire what he often referred to as her "next victim". She had even gone as far as to try to recruit him, threatening conscription when he turned her down. He simply told her that he did not wish to die from drinking tainted blood, whether it be tomorrow or in 30 years. She studied him for along time after that. Just before she got up to disappear in the trees again, she told him that she was sorry, and that enslavement was something she would never force him into. He had been forced into things to many times already.

One of the recruits crashed to the ground, tangled up in the plant life and overgrowth. He muttered something about how he just didn't see that large tree root, and rock, when she sighed. Upon their trips to the Brecilian camps before, Alistair had done similar things. She simply looked at him without empathy, and helped him up.

"It would suit you to become more dexterous. Once you complete the Joining the Darkspawn will be able to sense you, and if you continue stamping about you will not be able to evade them easily."

It was times like this, when the world forced her to relive a moment she shared with him, that Zevran longed to just hold her.

He didn't though. In the company of the Warden recruits, she did not consort with him. She discouraged them all from fraternization, telling them they had a duty to perform for Ferelden. "The life of a Grey Warden is often a lonely one." She said to them, when she was asked. "I do not discourage you from seeking the company and friendship of other's. But love is a selfish emotion, and it can quickly cloud your judgment. If the one you love were in harm's way, could you sacrifice them for the good of humanity? Could you sacrifice yourself knowing the pain and loss they would feel upon your death?"

None of the recruits had been able to answer just yet, though looks of sadness often overcame them.

They reached the camp to the north, and she was greeted with cheers. It was her clan, she was home. Zevran studied her, the way she clenched up while she was around them. The way she spoke quickly, as if in a hurry to get out of there. She pulled the Dalish leader aside, and spoke with them. From what little he could read of the conversation based on body language, she was receiving a lot of bad news.

"I cannot believe she is finally home." A voice spoke from behind him. He turned to find the speaker, and was met by a pale elf. He was young, but he had a stern look of sorrow painted on him. Zevran smirked slightly, and nodded.

"It is indeed She. But of course you have possibly known her longer than I." The elf wrinkled his nose at Zev, his eyes scanning the Antivan over as if to sum him up.

"You are not Dalish?" He asked Zevran, his voiced laced more with contempt than friendliness. "Well, one half on my mother's side. As for my father, I do not know. As far as I know he could have been a dwarf. But that is beside the point. If there is anything she has taught me, it is that no matter the race we all bleed the same color."

The boy sniffed in distaste, and opened his mouth to say something else when Zevran sot him a cold glare. He had developed the ability to render others speechless without showing any emotion. The young elf looked like he was mustering the courage to say it anyway, but decided against it. Edana was walking back to them now, frustration painted on her face. "I've had to enforce the right of Conscription. We are to require our recruit and leave before nightfall."

"Fair enough, so where is the little whippersnapper?" Zevran said jokingly, instantly regretting his tone when he saw the look of weariness on her face. "They are fetching her for us now…" She said, and he couldn't help but notice the look of pain on her features. They clustered together in a small group, five Warden recruits, the two of them and the massive Mabari hound. The Dalish looked at them, at her, as if they were bringing fresh news of a Blight. She squirmed uncomfortably, as if she just wanted to turn and say 'Forget it.', but she did not.

They waited for about an hour before they were met with an Elven Female about the same age as Edana. Edana smiled at her, a sight he was grateful to see. "Maret," She said, extending a hand out to her. Maret, who managed to look happy and uneasy at the same time, bowed lightly to the Grey Warden. "It is good to see you lethallan, we were all certain that we would not see you again. The news of your success has become a tale often told around the fire at nights." Edana blushed a little, shaking her head as if it was no big deal.

"I am curious however, why are you here lethallan? You travel here with a band of Shemlens and others in tow, and you ask for me." Maret looked nervous.

"I am here to see if you would join me. You showed promise before, and I certain your skills have only grown since. I would like you to join at my side, become a Grey Warden, and fight the Darkspawn."

The elf seemed to think this over for a few moments, and Edana allowed her the silence. Finally she raised her eyes, and Zevran could clearly read fear. "I will, only if you can answer me one question."

Edana blinked, none of the other recruits had questioned becoming a Warden let alone test her. "Ask away." She said simply.

"This is because of my skills only, not because you wish to atone for the death of Tamlen."

Edana swallowed hard, and sighed inwardly. "Your brother was my dearest friend Maret. I do blame myself often for his death, but this is not why I choose you. I choose you because you are honorable, capable, and compassionate; and also because you are quick thinking, dexterous, and great with a bow. You would make a promising addition to the Warden's. However if it is your wish to remain, then do so. A Warden's life is a hard one…" she trailed off, as if she had just suddenly run out of words.

Maret smiled at Edana then, and stuck out her hand. "Then I am proud to join."

* * *

They had come across a small band of Darkspawn, and slaughtered them. Afterwards, she found more than one of them heaving their guts up in a nearby bush. Maret stared at the twisted being at her feet. "Do they all look like this?"

Edana found her self surprisingly used to the mangled faced of the Darkspawn. "Some are worse…" She trailed off, watching as horror rushed its way to the surface of Maret's face. She gathered six vials of Darkspawn blood, and stored them securely in her pack. "We will be at the Peak very shortly," she said as she adjusted her weapons and looked around at the recruits to see if they were all right. Zevran smiled, "They still look slightly green around the gills if you ask me…" he whispered to her playfully, delighting as he saw a devious glint in her eye.

"When we arrive, you can all have a bath and bowl of Bram's Ale stew…" Her sentence interrupted by her own laughter as some of them stormed the bushes again and the sounds of retching filled the air again.

'This is the part I hate the most' She thought to herself, returning the handshakes of the sentry guards. They had arrived, and the Joining was not far off. She looked at Maret, and winced painfully as if she had been pinched. 'Maker, let her survive it'. She was interrupted by a gleeful giggle. "You're back!" said a voice to follow the giggle, and Edana smiled again. Leliana had taken her up on the offer to become a Grey Warden, unlike Zevran, and had put herself in charge of the Peak's chantry and archives. She embraced the bard genuinely, and then looked back at her recruits. She would allow them a last meal, and a bit of friendly company before she stole their lives. "Oh but you are not going to believe it!" Leliana said excitedly, nearly jumping up and down on the spot. "Wynne has come to visit!"

She was being pulled by the excited bard, trying hard to listen to her but not really being able to catch all of what she was saying due to the fact she was being greeted by anyone who passed her by. "You should see them! Wynne said she found them in the Market District, in Denerim. They are so beautiful if I could wear them and fight I would never take them off." Edana playfully rolled her eyes. Shoes again, was that all she could think of. "There is one more thing…" Leliana said turning to fully face Edana now. Her face glowed with happiness, and Edana looked on at her confused. Leliana seemed to excited to contain herself, and Edana had begun to lose her patience.

"Leliana would you just spit-" Edana started when there was a loud commotion behind her. She recognized the howls and yelps of her Mabari.

Suddenly there was a crashing from behind her, as dog and person fell through the door and to the ground. "Yuck! YUCK!" the man underneath the Mabari yelled. "What have you been eating? Dead hares again? Your breath alone could fell another Archdemon… Bloody hell dog get off of me!" The voice pleaded.

Topaz looked up at his master with loving fluid eyes and barked happily. Edana however was frozen. Pinned beneath the pony sized beast lay Alistair.


	8. Chapter 8

_**First let me thank all of you that have subbed, and reviewed. My alerts are a little late so I didn't even know half of you were reading. As I recall when I read them all I was all *reviews!! Squeeeeee!*. I appreciate your feedback. As for the little cliffhanger at the end here, I will be putting a new chapter up tonight! Again, much love! **_

* * *

_Another dream that will never come true  
Just to compliment your sorrow  
Another life that I've taken from you  
A gift to add on to your pain and suffering  
Another truth you can never believe  
Has crippled you completely  
All the cries you're beginning to hear  
Trapped in your mind and the sound is deafening_

Let me enlighten you  
This is the way I pray  
Living just isn't hard enough  
Burn me alive inside  
Living my life's not hard enough  
Take everything away

_Prayer - Disturbed _

_

* * *

_"Oh Andraste's Knickers! You smell as if you have been licking the crotch of an Archdemon!" Alistair exclaimed as the giant Mabari licked his face happily. The dog was perched on the templar, paws planted firmly an his chest pinning him to the ground. He struggled to free himself, but the dog was kept shoving him down. Topaz looked up then, spotting his master and wuffed happily at her, the nub of a tail wagging so hard he seemed to really be shaking his rear instead. His brown eyes alight with happiness, he almost seemed to be saying 'Look at what I've found! I brought you a present, and it's much better than the Antivan.'

Edana felt a lump rise in her throat. She couldn't hear anything; she could only stare as if Andraste herself lay upon the floor. Her heart seemed to have jumped and permanently implanted itself into her skull cavity, and her ears beat with the thumping. That was when she spied Zevran. His eyes showed his surprise, and then they went blank. He nodded at her, and walked into the dining hall as if he were telling her silently that he understood. She cleared her throat then, and pulled the Mabari off of Alistair. He got to his feet as she calmed the hound, talking to it softly in her native tongue.

He looked her over at first, ignoring his first reaction to scoop her up and kiss her. He noted that she was slightly thinner, that her hair was now mid back and she kept it pulled behind her in a tail. He liked it, he thought silently, before the swelling feeling f anger started bubbling from the pit of his stomach. She had abandoned him, left him and run off to fend the world alone. She had broken her promise to him, hadn't she? He swallowed and reminded himself that she was doing her duty, just as he had been.

"Err... Your dog licked me." He said nervously. She glanced up at him, and he noted the coldness in her eyes. He longed for the time when her eyes held nothing but warmth, love, and hope. His heart felt heavy.

"It is good to see you again your Grace." She said, slowly standing. "I am sorry my dog attacked you. If I were you, I would take a hot bath. We can't have our King smelling like a dead nug rotting in the sun..." She winced at her own words, and watched the hopeful light drain from his eyes quickly. "What brings you to this part of Ferelden, Alistair?" she said cautiously. She had heard that Anora had died from pregnancy complications long ago, and knowing she had left him to see his way through that alone was something she secretly regretted.

She sighed and looked at Alistair, but quickly looked away. Just seeing him made her head start to hurt. He hadn't changed, his boyishly good looks still had a way of making her heart speed up. His chocolate brown eyes still held a light of good humor and cheer, but there were hints of sadness underneath. It was all she could do to stop herself from stepping forward, running her hands through his brown hair kissing him. She then thought of Anora, his dead wife, and the night with Morrigan. He had done as she had commanded; it was hardly his fault for such things. Or was it? As king surely he could have demanded that tradition be broken and married whom he pleased?

Oh how naïve she had been, to think that she could watch him parade around with another woman, and know that he had to bed her for the sake of nobility? That she could have watched him have children that were not hers? To wait alone each night until he could sneak away so that they could love one another? And what if… What if? What if.

He was talking, and she had been ignoring him. "Hello? Earth to Edana?" he waved as her eyes began to focus on him again. He danced a silly jig on the spot, stopping in time to see her face turn bright red. "Oh, nice to see you're with me still. I've been talking to you, and you keep staring off. Are you with me now? Or do I have to start reciting bad poetry?"

Edana's face was pinched in a way that indicated she wanted to scream at him, or laugh herself silly. She saw Maret out of the corner of her eye, and then remembered that she had a joining to do. She shook her head at Alistair, who was swelled up in the chest like a prized rooster, seeming pleased with himself and the reaction he had gotten out of her.

"I am sorry your Grace, it is just that I am tired and I still have much to do tonight. Perhaps we can speak after I have completed the Joining ritual for out new recruits."

"Oh," said Alistair, reading her face easily. He could see that she was nervous about the ritual, as she should be. How many of the recruits would survive was the question what was painted on her face. "Would you like me to… help?" He asked.

Edana was about to protest when Leliana stepped in. "Of course you can help Alistair." She shot Leliana a look that told the bard that if she had been anywhere but in the presence of others…

"I am sure his Grace has other things he needs to be attending to. I do not need help to perform…"

"Oh, do stop with the 'your Grace' thing. It makes me feel as if I should be covered in ruffles and makeup." Alistair interjected. "I would be glad to help. You forget that I have been to a few joinings… Including your own."

Edana regarded him with silence, and then shrugged. "As you wish." She began down the hallway with Alistair tailing behind her. Blessedly, he was as silent as the grave, and she thanked him quietly. She didn't trust herself alone with him, and if he began yammering on so she didn't know what she might do.

Together they gathered the recruits in the Archive, a library that was steadily growing with found documents and others that had remained when the Keep had fallen. The recruits were huddled together nervously, all except Maret that is, whispering to one another. She recalled her own joining, recalled Duncan's every word in great detail. She had done three other joinings prior to this, and she repeated the whole ceremony based on his words. She mixed the goblet silently and began.

"At last we come to the Joining…" she spoke calmly, explaining to the recruits what had to be done. They looked at her horrified, as she spoke, looking at the goblet as if it were afire. "There is no turning back." She said to them, and as if they could read the stern look on her face none objected.

She looked to Alistair and nodded. "We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first."

Alistair began. "Join us Brothers and Sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that is forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you…"

She handed the cup to the first recruit, a mage named Leonard. He drank and collapsed but was still breathing. And so she continued, watching them as they fell to the floor gasping, but thankful that they were still alive. Finally she handed the goblet to Maret. The young elf drank, and then began to writhe in pain. Edana gasped as she saw Maret collapse to the floor in convulsion. The girl shook with a great seizure, and Edana felt her heart breaking. "I am so sorry Maret…" She said sadly, watching with great tears forming in her eyes as the girls chest stopped rising and falling.

Alistair watched as the horrored look came over Edana, and realized that this was more than a mere new recruit. As the tears began to fall, and she sobbed out her apology, he walked to her and took her in his arms. She let him for a second, but then pushed him away angrily. He could see her trembling, and tried to approach her again. He did not get the chance, and watched as she sped from the room. "Leliana, come help me…" he said, motioning to the other's laying on the floor.

Edana ran, pushing past everyone in the hallway. She burst from the door, passing a bewildered Mabari and Wynne. She did not stop once she reached the courtyard. She kept going as fast as her legs would carry her into the forests. Away from the prying eyes of anyone.


	9. Chapter 9

I removed this chapter and readded it upon revision. So many typos in it, it looked as if the cat had typed it. Yarr!

_Song = How to save a Life - The Fray_

* * *

_"Step one you say we need to talk  
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk  
He smiles politely back at you  
You stare politely right on through  
Some sort of window to your right  
As he goes left and you stay right  
Between the lines of fear and blame  
And you begin to wonder why you came"_

_

* * *

_

She ran until her feet collapsed out from under her, crashing to the ground. A rock struck her knee, opening up a good-sized gash there. She screamed with the pain of it, the outlet of her voice releasing the pent up sorrow there. Her screams turned from physical pain to more, echoing the forest. They continued until her voice was hoarse, and she could do nothing but sob silently.

"Tamlen…" she sobbed to herself. "I am so sorry Tamlen. Maret!" She cried for hours, until she passed out from sheer exhaustion. The sleep was so deep that she was oblivious to the sounds of approaching footsteps.

* * *

_"Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend  
Somewhere along in the bitterness  
And would I have stayed up with you all night  
Had I known how to save a life"  
_

* * *

She awoke several hours later, when a light rain had begun to fall upon her. The sky was beginning to darken indicating the onset of dusk, and she realized that she needed to get back. Being unarmed in these woods wasn't exactly the greatest of ideas. Sitting up, she winced as she felt a sharp pain on her leg. She pulled her knee close for inspection, marveling at the fact it had swelled to twice its size. It was an angry blue, and she tried to extend her leg to see just how badly she had damaged it. That's when she spied the footprints.

They were larger than hers, and made from an armored boot. She put her fingers into the dirt, pulling them out to smell the dirt. They were made not long ago the dirt told her, and her eyes eagerly scanned the area looking for more. She saw that they had come from behind her, away from her, and that there were a few million of them in a neat circle just to her left. The circle indicated that her stalker had been pacing, and for a good while too.

Edana sighed; she needn't be a fortuneteller to figure out whose tracks they were. Alistair was prone to pacing when nervous, and she shook her head with exasperation. _How could the day get any worse?_

"I know you are out there, I can feel your eyes upon me Alistair. You can come out of hiding…" She said weakly, her eyes darting to where the footprints had disappeared into the tree line.

* * *

_"Let him know that you know best  
Cause after all you do know best  
Try to slip past his defense  
Without granting innocence  
Lay down a list of what is wrong  
The things you've told him all along  
And I pray to God he hears you  
And I pray to God he hears you_

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend  
Somewhere along in the bitterness  
And would I have stayed up with you all night  
Had I known how to save a life"  
_

* * *

_

She saw him peek his head out from behind a tree, an embarrassed look on his face as he rose and walked over to her. He saw the blood upon her leg and the ground, and winced. He pulled bandages out of his pack, and began to patch her knee up for her. She tried to shoo his hands away, he grabbed her wrists and looked at her with something she hadn't seen before. His anger showed through his eyes, and it pierced her like a blade. She stilled then and allowed him to finish bandaging her knee.

* * *

_"As he begins to raise his voice  
You lower yours and grant him one last choice  
Drive until you lose the road  
Or break with the ones you've followed  
He will do one of two things  
You will admit to everything  
Or he'll say he's just not the same  
And you'll begin to wonder why you came"_

* * *

His silence was deafening, and she felt fresh tears welling up in her eyes. Before she could stop herself, a strangled wail escaped her, and she burst into a fresh round of crying. Putting her hands over her face, the outlet of her sorrow was so great that it even overwhelmed Alistair. He could feel grief as if her very aura was made of it, a grief so great that he couldn't bear to ask what caused it.

* * *

_"Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend  
Somewhere along in the bitterness  
And would I have stayed up with you all night  
Had I known how to save a life"_

* * *

He dropped his shield, removed the belt that held his sword, and the rough plate armor. It left him bare-chested, but he didn't care at this moment. He sat next to her, and pulled her into his lap. The leather armor was slightly uncomfortable next to his naked flesh, but it was a sacrifice he would make gladly. He held her while she cried, her head against his shoulder, and her tears wetting his flesh. His anger stamped down deep, and only his love for her lingering, he laid his head against the top of her own and breathed in her scent.

* * *

_"How to save a life"_

* * *

This was the moment they had both longed desperately for, and for a time it seemed as if the only thing that mattered in the world was the two of them.


	10. Chapter 10

_"I'm on my knees  
only memories  
are left for me to hold_

Dont know how  
but Ill get by  
Slowly pull myself together

_Theres no escape  
So keep me safe  
This feels so unreal_

Nothing comes easily  
Fill this empty space  
Nothing is like it seems  
Turn my grief to grace

I feel the cold  
Loneliness unfold  
Like from another world

Come what may  
I wont fade away  
But I know I might change

Nothing comes easily  
Fill this empty space  
Nothing is like it was  
Turn my grief to grace

Nothing comes easily  
Where do I begin?  
Nothing can bring me peace  
Ive lost everything  
I just want to feel your embrace 

_I love you..."_

_Grace - Kate Havnevik_

* * *

The rain was really coming down now, turning the forest into a muddy swamp. Yet they still sat there with the water pouring down on them, holding each other. Night had fallen, and any number of nasty beasties could have easily gobbled them both up, but they would have died together. Her tears had died off long ago, yet they still clung to each other as if to keep from drowning.

She felt him shake involuntarily beneath her, and realized that the onset of night had brought on a chill. She too was shivering with the cold, and the icy rain was not helping. "You're cold...," she said lightly, breaking the silence between them.

"M-m-me? C-c-c-old? Never-r-r-r..." He said through his shivering and she smiled against him. She lifted her face from his chest, and looked at him. His lips had gone blue, and his teeth where chattering. Edana couldn't help the smile that was quickly widening on her face.

He looked at her, and tried to smile through the chattering. "D'you find-d-d this Fuh-funny?" He asked her, and she burst into a fit of giggles. He mock frowned then, but he felt warmer having seen her smile. She giggled again, shivering as well as she did. "You look like Oghren after a hard night of ale! Lips blue, and nose as red as a strawberry." She spluttered, her laughs moving from giggles to a breathless roaring.

Alistair feigned shock and dismay, which only made her, laugh harder. Soon she was out of breath and snorting uncontrollably. He laughed with her now, the snorting a trait that he used to enjoy. Of course it always led to him torturing her about it relentlessly, her snorting all the while. "I Aw-aw-oughta leave you out here to fuh-freeze" He said though his own laughter.

"Leave me to freeze!" she said breathlessly, "Perish the thought! Surely you couldn't leave me out here all by myself... And with a bum knee!" She laughed, clutching her side in a stitch.

Alistair grumbled then and plopped her down squarely in the mud. This only caused her to go into a fresh fit of snorting and giggles. Ignoring her he picked up his wet plate armor and began strapping it back on. Her giggles began to die, as she watched him from her spot in the mud.

Her eyes trailed over the expanse of his muscled back, locking on to his profile. His arms masterfully pulled on the armor, and she watched with longing as they disappeared beneath the glint of plate mail. Her body gave an involuntary shudder as her memory forced her to recall night in which she spent wrapped in their strong hold. How his heavy clumsy looking fingers could make her heart and body sing like a harp, and how his lips felt when they touched hers...

She felt another wave of sadness wash over her; she realized that she would never again feel him against her. She would never again hear his snores while they slept, or feel him against her back pressed against her, one arm over her side with it's hand cupping one breast as they slept. Most of all she missed the feeling that she was safe. She marveled at how those strong arms made her feel as if they could block out the horrors of the world and keep her warm forever. And the way he looked at her... The way his chocolate eyes could see no wrong in her, and how they made her want to give him everything in the world. She often thought of their life together after the Blight. They could have traveled anywhere, done anything, been together, really and truly... just existed, camp-to-camp, and day-to-day. They would have been childless and so family acting as nomads would not have been frowned upon. And when the nightmares returned, they would go to the Deep Roads together and die fighting. Die loving, and loved. Together in afterlife... eternally in love.

And then reality came up and punched her right in the eye. Alistair turned to face her then, and saw the serious look on her face. The playful light in his eyes died, and he studied her back until her eyes met his face. "Why are you here Alistair?" She asked him simply, the coldness returning to her eyes.

Alistair squirmed a little on the spot, and shook his head. "No, not now. Not after all of that. Edana..." he struggled with his own words, and his want to simply be with her tonight as a friend. He shook his head, and looked at her with desperate eyes. "Please not tonight..."

Edana stood up carefully, mud running down her legs as the rain washed it off of her. He was fumbling with the straps on his armor, trying to get it fastened. She picked up his sword, and began limping away. "Hey!" He called after her, grabbing up his shield and starting off after her. "That's mine!" He said like an impatient child, but she ignored him.

"And I am unarmed Ser Templar." She stated simply. He stopped in his tracks, a strange look on his face as if he were trying to hard to understand her logic. "Yes... You are, but now I am too." She stopped to look at him for a moment. "You have a shield Alistair, and I have nothing. I am not going back to the Peak tonight...I just cant. You are able to use your shield as a weapon; I have seen you do it countless times before. I will return it to you on the morrow, but Maker help us these woods are dangerous at night. I do not feel like getting lost. You can try to go back to the peak if you like, but if I were you I would just consign yourself to follow..."

Alistair thought about it for a moment, and a stupid sort of grin came over his face. Alone, with her for the evening? He tried not to show her the elation on his face. If she saw it, she clearly ignored it. Her limping grew more pronounced as she walked, and he noticed that the gash had begun to bleed again. She topped for a second to grab at a handful of elfroot, before she continued walking. Edana knew the woods well, for she had made small mental landmarks throughout, however she did not lie when she said that the woods seemed to grow larger at night. As if they meant to swallow you up like some kind of ravenous animal. Not to mention the Sylvan's that lingered around. Anger one of them in the night and you could easily end up dead. She stopped for a second at a large rock, Alistair stumbling on behind her. She thought for a few moments before nimbly trotting off to the east. There was a crevice in the rock, a large but shallow chasm that was uninhabited. She had often scouted here, and they would be safe from the rain and the Sylvans.

He watched as she found the hole in the rock, and slipped through it. He followed, trying to be as nimble as she but failing horribly. He crashed to the ground and groaned in pain. She smiled to herself; he never had been any good at navigating through tunnels and forests. The moonlight shone though the cave, illuminating it lightly enough for her to make useful inventory of the brush inside. Water poured in from the opening, and so she walked towards the dark back of the cave with his sword firmly clutched in her hand. She was bleeding, so any beast that dwelled her surely smelled her and would come looking after long. Gathering up a bit of brush and dried roots, she felt around for some rock. After a while, she found two small but usable pieces of flint. Her cold fingers worked fast to start the small fire, and soon the whole cavern was filled with the dim light. The cavern was indeed empty, and for that she was thankful.

Alistair watched as she quickly started a fire, and hurriedly made his way towards the back of the cave. His lips were still blue from the cold, and he sat next to it trying to warm up through the thick armor. She smirked, if he was anything he was eternally modest. "Alistair… You will not get warm and dry in that…" She said pointing to his armor, as she herself began to pull of the Dalish leather she wore. Underneath she wore a simple tunic and skirt, something linen and thin that helped to protect her skin from the rub of the leather. It was drenched too, but at least it could breathe and dry. Depositing her armor near her, so that the warmth of the fire could help to dry the leather. He gulped as he spied her in the thin wet material, and shook his head. He would not gawk… would not gawk… would not gawk… would not-

"Alistair?" She asked suddenly, making him tear his eyes away from her body. "No, I wasn't!" he exclaimed suspiciously. She shot him a look, and then realized what he had been doing. Blushing furiously, she secretly wished she had thought this trek into the woods through properly. A wolf pelt would have been most welcomed. She leaned with her back to the cold cavern wall, her body drinking in the heat as if it were a fine wine. He slowly removed the plate mail breastplate, and greaves. His brown woolen pants were all he usually wore underneath his battle gear, because of how hot the summer had been. Together in silence they sat apart, listening to the hypnotizing sound of the rain as it fell.

He finally broke the silence after some time. "You left," was all he could muster, his heart pounding furiously in his chest with a mix of anger and fear. Edana shook her head in the dim light; her ebony hair had been pulled loose from the leather thong that secured it. It was beginning to dry, and it shone in the dim light of the fire. "No, you left me." She said calmly to him. "When I woke, I was greeted by Zevran and the news that you had married and gone on a royal holiday with your new bride."

Alistair swallowed, that had been the truth, but in reality he felt he hadn't a choice. "I didn't want to marry Anora. I told you that. I would rather have seen her on the throne that taken it up as my own. You were the one who thrust me forth, you said it was my duty."

Edana turned her head to look at him, and he saw the emblazoning anger rising in her features. "It IS your duty Alistair. You are the son-"

"Bastard son, unwanted love child," he interjected.

"-of the King. Wanted or not Alistair, you were the only one in line to rule. You had to do it; you have no choice in that matter. And then the marriage to a human woman, for Kings must have heirs. I picked one that was apt and able, and who could rule for you since you hate politics. It was a good match. I would have been brandished your elfish whore, and would have had to sit by night after night watching you masquerade as the loving and doting husband to someone else. How could I do that?"

He was staring at his hands as if they had sprouted several new fingers. He hadn't thought of this when the news of her departure had been brought to him. Taking it all in the way she described made him hate his lineage even more.

"Grey Warden's are not meant to love. They are meant to sacrifice their self for the good of humanity. They are meant to die alone, and violently. Love only interferes with the task at hand, and leads to selfish decisions." She said heatedly, looking away from him to the wall ahead of her.

"Do you mean Morrigan?" He asked then surprised. His eyes tried to read her features, but only saw coldness and regret. "I regret everyday that I made you do that. I should have not been a coward; I should have run that stupid bitch through. Instead I gave you away for the first time that night, like some common pimp directing his whore's. I used you to feed into my selfish need to have you live and to live in a world where you existed. Only to find that world exists only in my head."

He scoffed at her. "How can you say that? Do you think me some fat lazy lapdog that does whatever you say whenever you tell me to? Do you not think that it was not part of my decision as well? Well it was! You made perfect sense when you said that another blight could start again in five, ten, or even a thousand years… Maybe-"

"Maybe we brought the end of humanity. Maybe the Blight isn't really over?" She interrupted, feeling the hollow beating of her heart in her ribcage. "I don't know. I do know that I will hunt Morrigan to the end of the earth if I have to."

The silence engulfed them again, and he waited to see if she would continue. When she didn't, he cleared his throat softly. "So does that mean you regret… Do you regret- I mean, I don't mean to be rude but do you wish-"

"Do I wish I never loved you Alistair?" She finished for him. She met his eyes again, and felt her heart skip a beat once more. "I could never regret that."

He exhaled as if he had been holding his breath. She smiled a little then, though it quickly faded away. "My wishes do not matter in this life Alistair. And even though we faced certain death you gave to me the greatest gift I could ever have possessed. The ability to feel loved, safe, and whole is something I will never regret, and something I can never thank you enough for."

He couldn't hold it back anymore; with a few quick movements he closed the gap between them. He sat as close to her as he could, and she did not fight him this time. "I am so sorry my love,…" she whispered to him, though she did not cry the sadness in her voice was enough to move a mountain. He stroked her face gently, and kissed her.

"Never be sorry", he said between kisses. "I may not be a hero, or a King. But what I am you make me." She sighed happily at the feel of his body against hers, and tucked herself securely into his arms. There they leaned against one another, holding on for dear life as two lonely shipwrecked sailors lost at sea. They had found peace once again.


	11. Chapter 11

_**This is just some fluff to get them out of the cave. It's short! I wanted to do something sans steaminess. **_

* * *

Blissful sleep, for the first time in a very long time, it was uninterrupted and peaceful sleep. A few times she nearly woke, confused as to who's arms were wrapped tightly around her, but then she heard the throaty snores. She smiled in her sleep, and snuggled further into him. She was sure when she woke it would all be a dream and he would be gone, and so she wanted to hold onto him a bit longer.

Kisses. Small kisses were being planted on her head and temple. The sleep begins to fade from her, reality starting to become more coherent to her. She realized these kisses were not some lingering dream they were real kisses. She opened one eye, and suddenly became aware of the warm flesh she was cuddled up against. Warm, tan, muscular flesh…

The first stirrings of desire ripple through her, and she sits up with a start. They had fallen asleep sitting up against the cave, cuddled together for warmth. The fire's embers had long since gone out, but she could see daylight shining through the mouth of the cave. It darker in the back of the cave where they sit, and she can barely make out his features. Her heart does somersaults as she realizes that her dreams were a real and not just a cruel joke, as they had been a thousand times before. He is obviously awake, and she can almost make out his smile in the darkness of the cave.

"Good morning." He whispers to her, leaning in to place a quick kiss on her lips while she lets the reality set in. "Alistair." She states, as if assuring herself that he was really there. She sighs contentedly, and leans against him once again, relishing in the feel of his strong arms. "Your back must be killing you."

"Not at all. Sitting up sleeping while leaning against cold cavern walls is my specialty." He says with the familiar hint of sarcasm that only he could possess. She smiled against him, just wanting to feel him kiss her hair in that way he always did. As if he needed to let her know…

She sighed, they needed to get back soon before a search part was unleashed. She tried to stretch her leg and winced at the pain, and then she remembered the gash on her leg. She glanced down at it, pulling out of his arms, and found a purple knot the size of Sten's fist on the cap. Walking was going to be loads of fun. "Don't look now, but I think my knee has taken a vacation." She said, and he looked at it. "Ouch. That looks very pretty, but very painful." She was going to need help walking, and that was all there was to it. "We need to get you to a healer, and soon. That cut is starting to look angry."

Surely it was too, the gash next to the bruise was crusted with blood and mud. It already had an angry red ring around it. He was probably right; they needed to start back soon. She scooted over to where her armor was, and began to put it on. She was thankful that it had dried in the night; wet leather did not have a pleasant smell. As she pulled hers on, he donned his plate mail.

"People are going to talk." She said quietly, lacing up the armor on the sides. She looked at him and shrugged. "So, let them talk. If I remember correctly, I once had the same fear. You told me that if they did you were going to feed them to the darkspawn." She grinned at the memory, it was the first time she had realized that she loved him. It was also the first time he had accidentally let it slip that he loved her. The early days of their relationship were stressed, but oddly beautiful and enchanting. She remembered the look of his body in the firelight while they…

He let out a chuckle, and it grabbed her attention once again. "You should see the look on your face just now… If I were to have an inkling, I would say you were thinking of nefarious things by the way you are blushing…" This only furthered the blush, making her turn crimson. "Oh-ho! Was I right? I certainly hope they involved me…" She pursed her lips and looked at him with mock contempt. He laughed then at her, the thoughts were written on her face as clear as any day.

"Oh go on." She said furiously, grumbling at the humor he had found at her expense. Still there was that lingering need within her to tell him to drop the armor and come over…

Her ears twitched as heard a familiar whistle; the search party had come after all With Zevran at the head. Alistair caught the sound as well, and feigned disappointment. "We have company?" He inquired. "Damn." She looked at him with astonished eyes, and saw a gleam in his she knew all to well.

She suddenly was very glad they had come, and excessively annoyed. She was finding it very hard to compose herself anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

Breathless. He can remember feeling breathless when he saw her with the human whose very memory caused her so much torment. His eyes searching her over, trying to read in her expression the event's of the night. A flicker of awkwardness floats over her delicate features, and she glances away from Zevran's prying eyes. He inwardly sighs, the templar may be breaching her defenses but he has not yet breached her honor. Though, if you asked him Zevran may have told you he expected to find the both of them doing the nasty. The feeling of relief that washed over him was unexpected and strange.

As the weeks pass by, he can see her straining against her reserve, try as she may to avoid the templar it is hard to mistake the feeling of relief and longing she cannot hide when she is in the same room as Alistair. He has become more aware of this growing feeling of jealousy deep within his chest, wanting to snatch her from the room and sink a throwing dagger right between the human's eyes. He is surprised to find himself constantly lingering close to her, even if he is turned away at her bedchamber door when he knocks on it in the late hours of night. Especially when he hears her screaming…

He is rooted to the spot one night, having heard her scream again and rushing to the rescue like some blasted night in shining armor. In the shadows of the hall, he sees her engulfed in the templar's arms. Her eyes are wet with tears, her voice in a choked sob. He can hear the templar telling her that it is not her fault, has never been her fault, and that it just happens. "Some people die of the taint, there is nothing you can do to prevent it…" are his exact words, some that Zevran had tried his best to tell her as well. Why is it that she can receive comfort from the same words, just from him?

She has stopped crying, and looks to where he hid in the shadows, as if she has some inkling that Zevran was hiding there, but he is a master of stealth and her expression turns to relief. She looks up at the templar, soothed by his very look it would seem, and kisses him softly. This does not seem to do justice the wants of Alistair, and Zevran watches with growing anger as he deepens their kiss. Soon one of his hands is in her hair, the other cupping one buttock while her own seem to be digging into his back. She pulls away breathlessly, putting her hands on her chest as if to keep herself at bay more than preventing Alistair from trying anything. "No." she says, her breathing labored and her reserve faltering. "No, we cannot Alistair. This is wrong…"

The Templar looks hurt, and Zevran feels his heart surge with pride. "How is it wrong? It was never wrong before. I love you Edana!" She regards him, her mouth opening and closing as if she had to many things trying to come out of it at once. "You are King of Ferelden." She said, using her familiar shield to placate herself. "And I am an elf. It is wrong for us to lie to ourselves, to allow ourselves to love one another selfishly. You will need to take another wife eventually…" She forces the tears back down that are threatening to well up in her eyes.

The look on Alistair's face is a curious one to behold, Zevran notices, as he struggles with some inner knowledge. "I've left Eamon as regent, I do not intend to return to the throne Edana." She did not seem to be placated by this, and merely shook her head at him. She fights a losing battle within, knowing that she loves him so much that if this continues she would simply invite him. She thinks of the task at hand, what she knows she has to do soon. How can he love her if he knew that she would without a doubt, kill the child he has created with Morrigan without a seconds thought. Would he hate her then?

She simply pulled herself away from him, stepping back into her room and shutting the door on the templar. He watches as the templar throws around his next course of action, and turns away.

"Sleepwalking are we?" says a voice from behind Alistair that causes him to jump, and spin around. He sees Zevran standing against the wall with his hands crossed over his chest, and a look on his face that betrayed his normal emotionless demeanor. He feels a hot sense of anger begin to creep up his neck, was Zevran spying on them? He thinks angrily. "Err… Maybe. Either way it is none of your concern." He never quite understood how Edana could trust someone as slimy as the Antivan, as he himself forever wanted to beat him to a pulp. Zevran smirks a little, but his face is laced with contempt for Alistair, and the human can read his hatred and jealousy.

"Do you realize what this little charade you have planned is doing to her?" The assassin asked, his eyes narrowed in contained anger. "She has learned to compose herself in such a way, that your very presence is distracting her. Are you proud of yourself, causing her so much inner turmoil?"

"What are you?" Alistair said with disbelief. "Did you learn some kind of mind-reading trick while I was away? How can you know what she feels? Or what's best for her in any case? As I recall your biggest concern for a long time was in what method would you kill her? I hardly think you are qualified to tell me how much turmoil I have caused her." He regards the elf with a dawning realization. "Oh… I get it. With me out of the picture you had her all to yourself, and now that I am back you are playing the good friend whilst battling with your own Jealousy. Haven't you learned already that you just aren't her type?"

"And what is her type then? Doe eyed, slack minded, irresponsible, brown-eyed pretty boys who abandon her for a crown they are not worthy of?" The elf asked angrily, feeling an itching in his hands to grab up a poisoned dagger. "Father's of apostate's bastard children? All of these are more her type than I?"

Alistair swallowed hard; he didn't know that anyone else knew of the night he spent with Morrigan. " Had I not done the unthinkable she would be dead. Could you yourself sacrifice so much just to see her live?"

Zevran smiled, "Sleep with an incredibly sexy witch and father a child to prevent the death of one woman? Easily… Leave the woman I love because of the urgings of my noble family, never."

Alistair laughed then, his laugh cold and angry. "And just what do you know of love? How could someone who kills other's for a living and was raised by common whore's know anything of love?"

He's struck a nerve, and the assassin moves forward angrily, reaching for the dagger he always keeps hidden on his chest. Alistair moves quickly to the side then, seizing the hand that was reaching for the dagger, and spinning it behind Zevran's back. For a moment the elf is pinned, but he quickly spins himself around, turning to face the Templar. He kicks Alistair in the chest, making the man stumble backwards a few feet. He draws the dagger, and stands in a readied stance to use if should the templar charge him.

Alistair sees the dagger drawn, and shakes his head. "Gotta fight dirty do you? Can't settle this man to man, instead you have to bring a dagger into the fray like a coward?" Zevran throws the dagger to the side then, and waves his hands tauntingly. Alistair charges him then, using his body as a spear and knocking them both to the ground. He feels a fist connect with the back of his head, and is amazed at the power behind it. He sits up and brings a fist to smash against the Antivan's teeth, relishing in the sweet release of it. How long had he been longing to do just that?

Suddenly there is a delicate yet strong arm around his throat, pulling him off of Zevran and pushing him back. He realizes that she is between the both of them, hands on both of their chests, eyes alight with a fiery anger. "That is enough." She mustered, looking at the both of them as if she wanted to give them both a good thrashing herself. "Go to your rooms…" She said in an ordered voice. Alistair is the only one that speaks, "But he started it…" She shoots the templar a look that could boil water, "NOW!" She says forcefully, and he suddenly looks as if she had just stomped on his toes. He nods and leaves, looking back for a moment at her angered face. She turns her gaze to Zevran now, and shakes her head at him with disbelief. No words between them, she simply shoves him back a few feet before retreating to her room and slamming the door. Zevran can feel eyes on him, noticing that there are cracked doors with eyes peering out of them. He picks up his dagger, and sheath's it, and lets them wonder.

Edana leans against the door, and sinks to the floor. The Mabari hound that was just braying against the door at the fight trots up and puts his head in her lap. His eyes seem to ask her what that was all about and she sighs. She reaches over and begins to scratch behind the massive dogs ear, and he grunts happily. "If either one of those two idiots come to my door again tonight, you have my permission to make them less of a man." Topaz wuffs lightly, as if to approve.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Lyrics - Ghost of you by My Chemical Romance_**

* * *

_"I never said I'd lie and wait forever  
If I died, we'd be together  
I can't always just forget her  
But she could try"_

So tired. Her old bones were so very, very tired. And yet she had kept going all these years, had fought alongside our heroine, and still remained, though barely. Every time she slept, she remained in the fade a little longer. It had been coming; she had known it for a very long time. She feels it, feels the weary beat of her heart and the way the spirit within her seems to sigh, she knows that the tie has come. Swallowing hard, she looks to the two Grey Wardens that are in the Archives with her. "Help me please..." She asks weakly, and they come rushing to her side. She sends one to fetch her companion's, whilst the other helps her to her room. It was time to go home...

* * *

_"At the end of the world  
Or the last thing I see  
You are  
Never coming home  
Never coming home  
Could I? Should I?  
And all the things that you never ever told me  
And all the smiles that are ever ever...  
Ever..."_

Edana jumps as her door is thrown open by a familiar face. Leliana was crying, the bard's face a tangle of hair and tears. She needn't ask, she just followed her to the room where their elderly friend is lying. Wynne looks weak, she thinks to herself as they enter the room. Edana doesn't need anyone to tell her what was happening she already knows. She walks to the bed and sits beside Wynne, taking the mage's hand in her own. The mage smiles weakly at her, placing the tired hand upon the elf's cheek. "Be good to him." Was all she could muster, her words were being saved for someone else. Edana kisses the mage's palm, and holds her hand there for a moment as they waited. This was not their goodbye, she thought to herself, as she watches the strength literally run out of her friend. This moment was for Alistair, who had developed a very close relationship with Wynne. It was his goodbye, and she would not steal it from him.

* * *

_"Get the feeling that you're never  
All alone and I remember now  
At the top of my lungs in my arms she dies  
She dies"_

The door flings open, and there stands the templar panting. Wynne turns her head and smiles at him, holding onto Edana's hand still. Alistair walks over to the bed hurriedly, and knelt beside it ignoring the fact that Edana knees were dangerously close to his face. Wynne finally releases Edana, who slides from the bedside to give Alistair his room. Wynne sighs at him, and smiles, a smile which melts the templar's heart. "What's this all about?" He asks her, his heart sinking as the realization that he can do nothing to help sinks over him. "It's my time..." The mage replies, reaching one pale and thin hand out to his tanned face. He can't say much, he wants to tell her how she was like a mother to him, he wants to plead with her to fight but he cannot.

* * *

_"At the end of the world  
Or the last thing I see  
You are  
Never coming home  
Never coming home  
Could I? Should I?  
And all the things that you never ever told me  
And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me  
Never coming home  
Never coming home  
Could I? Should I?  
And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me  
For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me"_

Hot tears are falling slowly from his eyes, and he takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. Her breathing is becoming more labored, she feels herself slipping away. "You are a strong and honorable man Alistair." She manages, and he drops his eyes as if he cannot look at her. The unspoken words between them hold volume's, a strange sort of camaraderie between a mage and a templar. With tears streaming down his face, Alistair begins to chant. "Maker bless you and keep you..." He starts, and the mage sighs happily. It is the last breath she will take, and all watch as the templar continues with his vigil as the mage's chest ceases to rise. When he is finished, he knows she is gone without having to look. He leans in and kisses her cheek gently, and lays her hands atop her chest. With a heavy heart, he leaves the room to let the others begin the funeral arrangements.

* * *

_"If I fall  
If I fall (down)_

At the end of the world  
Or the last thing I see  
You are  
Never coming home  
Never coming home  
Never coming home  
Never coming home"

The night drug on, they would bury her Wynne on the morrow. Edana's heart was heavy with sorrow, not just for Wynne but for Alistair. The rest of her companions were gathered in the great hall, a mug of ale in each hand talking about Wynne and their travels. They were honoring her in their way. Oghren sniffled heavily, "I'll never forget. She once told me my brain was pickled…" he sobbed, a memory that brought a smile to Edana's face. The night drags on, and her friends are all very drunk, still talking of Wynne. Zevran and Oghren both seem to be leaning on the sobbing Leliana. She feels ashamed; sitting here with them when the one person she loves is sitting in solitude somewhere. 'Be good to him…' Wynne's last words to her.

* * *

_"And all the things that you never ever told me  
And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me"_

She was running down the halls, the last of the Warden's gone to bed long before. She was thankful that she had not partaken of the ale like the others had, but she had wanted to. She reaches Alistair's room, and knocks. He does not answer, and she pushed the door open to inspect the silence. He is clad only in trousers, the dim light of a few candles reflecting off his bare flesh. She can hear him chanting, and sobbing, and her heart breaks at the sound. Closing the door behind her with as silently as she can, she crosses the room to where he kneels and drops to her own knees. She places one hand on his back, and he stops chanting then, turning to her with red eyes. There is nothing either of them can say to numb this pain that he feels, she knows this and so she remains silent.

He grabs her around the waist, and lays his head upon her knees while he sobs. She runs her fingers through his short brown hair, speaking to him in her native tongue softly.

* * *

_"Never coming home  
Never coming home  
Could I? Should I?"_

After a while, he looks up at her. She smiles weakly at him, watching as he sits up. He kisses her, and she can't help but kiss back. The flame of desire awakens within her and though she tries her best to contain it she cannot. A small gasp escapes her as he draws her to him, one hand on her back; the other finds its way up her shirt. She allows her hunger to swallow her, his own flame of passion igniting under a storm of hungry and endless kisses. Soon he is pulling her clothing from her, and scooping her from the floor against him. She urges him as he carries her to his bed, and relinquishes her love all over again.

Feeling his strength above her, she gasps and gives her heart over to him completely.

* * *

_"And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me  
For all the ghosts that are never gonna..."_


	14. Chapter 14

"don't want to hurt you… Lethallin… Help me!" The shriek that once was Tamlen said to her, begging her to end his life. "No! Tamlen! Please no!"

"I.. am sorry… Lethallin…" were his last words to her, before he attacked her. Without thinking, she swung her blades. The thing that once was her dearest friend fell to the ground, his eyes the same as they were once. "Thank you…"

She fell to her knees, screaming. Her blade was sticking out of his back, the blood black with taint. Tamlen, her Tamlen… She had killed him. Suddenly the thing that was lying lifeless before her lifts its head, it's blackened eyes penetrating her and rendering her immobile. It pushes her down, and climbs over her. She can see Tamlen's features, the scar he got in his forehead from when they went hunting together for the first time… The creature screams, its open mouth revealing a mouthful of fangs. Her own screams echo with the creatures, and she has just enough time to call his name once more before the creature tears out her throat.

This is the dream that has replayed in her mind nearly every night since the Archdemon was slain. Tonight was no different, wrapped in her beloved's arms or not she was still plagued by her guilt.

It had been a week since Wynne's death, and though the mage was gone Edana could swear she heard her voice in her dreams. Calling to her… Pleading for her to answer. She could not answer however, for in the dreams she hears the voice just before the creature tears out her throat. She can remember the feeling of her heart slowing, her blood spurting out with every murderous beat… Her eyes start to close, her conscious fading and then….

And then she would wake. She would wake, and she would wonder why she was still alive. She would blame herself for Tamlen's death, and now Maret's death. She would wish for death… To die by his hand would do her justice for the crimes she has committed.

Tonight is no different. The shriek screams as it starts to climb over her, screaming and she screams. "EDANA!" she hears, louder than she has ever heard before. "EDANA! That is not Tamlen! Fight it! Fight IT! FIGHT DAMN YOU!"

'Not Tamlen…' she thinks, and realizes that the glamour is starting to fade. The thing over her is not Tamlen, the shrieks tainted features are melting away. It's shrinking, and it roars at the direction of the voice. Her fear is subsiding, and she pushes the shriek off of her. The thing keeps shrinking, but it's eyes. She's seen those eyes before… Those fiery dark eyes... She remembers the feeling that they brought her once, long ago. As she stands, and the shriek fades she remembers. She remembers those fiery eyes boring into her, pleading with her. Promising her the throne by Alistair's side. Promising her a home for her clan. Promising her every desire she ever had in exchange for it's own life.

The Archdemon. "No!" She screams as the shriek fades. "No!" she says again, turning around in this blurry plane, searching for it again. It was dead, she had killed it… She felt the release of its soul trying to tear her own away when her sword had bit into its skull. But then… Morrigan. Morrigan had birthed a child containing the soul of this being.

"Edana…" She hears again, turning to see two bright white figures approaching her. She squints, trying to see them, these spirits seemed no threat to her. They were so familiar….

"Lethallin?" Asks the one on the right, a spirit more masculine than the other. The voice is unmistakable. "Tamlen?!" She says breathlessly, suddenly able to make out his features. Her heart drops, and she stutters. "Tamlen… I-"

"There is no time for this lethallin. Just know that my death is not on your hands…" it says, and then gestures to the other spirit standing next to him. She turns her eyes towards this other spirit, and realizes now whom it is. Wynne…

"Wynne?" The spirit smiles, the mage's features growing clearer with each passing second. The dream is fading, almost as if she is being ripped from it. She realizes that she is in the fade, how she got there she is uncertain. Her conscious is pulling her from this place, and the spirits screams at her.

"WAR! A Great War is coming! The nation will be divided by two brothers with Tainted blood! He cannot Fail Edana! He cannot fail!"

"Who cannot fail Wynne?" She says, her words weakening as the dream fades. Suddenly she is awake, sitting up and feeling Alistair grunt against her. 'Who cannot fail?' she thinks again.

Surprisingly she receives an answer.

"Your son."


	15. Chapter 15

The tell tale signs are there, boring into and creating an inkling of suspicion; it keeps her awake a night with a wondering. Wynne's words still haunt her, and she finds herself wishing that those little signs would just go away. They don't however, they just keep getting worse.

First there is this insatiable appetite, for food amongst other things. Alistair would climb from their bed almost immediately after their lovemaking, still drenched with sweat, to be sent to the larder for various foods. Grapes, bread, cheese... All forms of cheese too. He would eat with her sometimes, watching as she gobbled down great mouthfuls of cheese and bread with one eyebrow arched up. As soon as the plate was empty and her cup drained, she would turn to Alistair with lustful eyes and practically pounce him. One night, he was awaken in a most... peculiar and... pleasing fashion. He remembered thinking as she climbed over him that something was certainly different about her.

Secondly there were these strange bursts of energy, followed by the worst and unshakeable fatigue. She would be out training, when all of the sudden she would move with a speed she did not know she had. Her sparring mate would block, try to parry, and barely have time to move before she was behind them, knocking them over and standing above them with her limbs tingling. Afterwards, she would be in a chair in the archives, or sitting next to Leliana in the great hall when she would just fall asleep. She would just be sitting with her back against the wall, Leliana would be rambling about shoes or hair, and suddenly she would be snoring.

One morning Alistair woke to find his ladylove no longer in bed with him. The early sunlight of daybreak washed over him as he dressed. He didn't have to wonder where she was, somehow he already knew. He made his way to the kitchen, to find her sitting on the floor next to a halved watermelon. She held one quarter of the massive fruit in her hands, slurping at the juicy rind. Pink sticky nectar covered the front of her dressing gown, and her face was covered with it and some of the black seeds that decorate the fruits pink meat.

The sight of her on that floor, with her face buried in the watermelon makes Alistair laugh. Edana glares up at him with a mouthful of watermelon and frowns. "Whassofunneh?" she says, chewing up the watermelon and swallowing. "Grey Warden appetite finally get you?" He asked her sitting next to her and scooping up the other quarter of watermelon. She regards him for a few moments, inner debate screaming to tell him the what if's. She remains silent though, and takes another bite of watermelon. She smiles at him through a mouthful of watermelon, and he laughs and takes a bite of his own.

"There is something very strange going on with you..." Zevran says to her one night after dinner. She was sitting with Leliana and himself, leaning against the table with one arm propping her up. She had started to doze while watching the two of them play a game of cards, something akin to strip poker. However the both of the being rogue's and cheating al the while left them both with a good deal of clothing on. "Hm? She says, blinking tiredly at them. Leliana is no fool; she clears her throat while laying down one of the cards. "I am just tired..." Edana says, laying her head down on the table and falling back into sleep. Zevran looked down at her, his affections painted on his face as he reached out to stroke her hair with his nimble fingers. Leliana sighs, glancing away as if she did not see Zevran's display of affection. "She is acting strangely..." She says, causing him to raise his eyes and look at her. "It is good to know that someone else has noticed this. I do wonder..." He says, glancing down at the sleeping Edana. Leliana used the distraction to her advantage, quickly flipping the cards in her hand with the one's up her sleeve. She lays them down, and smiles at Zevran mischievously. "Now lets have that breastplate..."

It is becoming unmistakable now, she thinks as she looks down at the swelling of her belly. So far she has hidden it cleverly, and Alistair has not paid much attention to her growing pudge. She had been hoping that it was not true, but as of lately... Lately she had been finding herself running hands absentmindedly over the swell of her lower abdomen. She turns to the side, standing in her chamber nude, and looking at her body in a mirror. Her back is starting to arch as the child within makes itself known. She finds it rather odd to look at, the way her body is the same save for this rounding bulge below her navel. She hears Alistair stir behind her, her absence waking him from slumber. He opens his eyes to find her standing there in front of the mirror marveling at herself. For the first time, he notices the rounding of her abdomen, and he lets out a chuckle.

"You know, for as much as you exercise you would think it wouldn't matter how much you ate." He says from underneath the blankets. She turns her head to him, and glowers. "Are you calling me fat Ser Templar?"

"Me? Call you fat? Never dear lady!" He says as he climbs out of bed and walks over to where she stands. He wraps his arms around her naked frame and places kisses her neck. "Still, You are getting thicker round the middle..."

"Oh ho!" She exclaims, turning in his arms to face him. "I'm getting thicker around the middle?" she asks, patting his own tummy. "Well at least I have good reason!"

"Good reason?" he scoffs, pulling her towards their bed. He falls back against it, pulling her over him. "You mean other than all of the watermelon and cheese you have been eating?" He says while kissing the outline of her jaw.

"I only eat cheese because your blasted child takes after... you..." She slips, catching herself to late. She sees the look of astonishment come over his face. "WHAT?!" She pulls from his arms, sitting up at the foot of the bed. He mirrors her movements, sitting up at the head of the bed so that they face each other. She lowers her eyes sheepishly, as he takes a few moments to mull over what she says. "Okay... Run that by me one more time. You like cheese because my child likes cheese... How does that make any sense? You would have to b..be.." And suddenly it clicks. His eyes flick from her face to her belly, and back again. She swallows, finding that her mouth has gone agonizingly dry.

A slow flicker of fear ripples through Alistair. Anora had died trying to carry his child, would he lose Edana the same way? He begins to stutter. "Y-y-you mean? B-but... b-b-but.."

She grows angry at his reaction, her eyes narrowing. "Do not worry Alistair, he won't be forced upon the throne for being the Kings Bastard. He is half elf..." Her heart feels like it is shattering. Alistair frowns at her. "Do you honestly think that is all I am worried about?" He says angrily at her. "Do you really think so low of me, that I would turn my own child away because his mother was an Elf that I loved?" He turns his head away, to angry to look at her. She feels foolish now, obviously misreading his reaction. She reaches a hand out to his hair, running her fingers through it. "I am sorry..." she says, blushing with embarrassment. Silence fills the room, and she squirms under the weight of it.

After a while, she sighs. "Please... Talk to me." he turns his worried eyes to her, and she sees that there is more there than she realizes. "What is it?" He begins to play with his thumbs, recanting to her what had befallen Anora. She sighs at his concern, and nodded. "There are two differences between Anora and I." He stares at her with questioning. "I share the same taint as you is the first.." a fact that makes him exhale in relief. "And the second?" he asks. "A good friend told me that our son was meant for great things."

Alistair somehow knew, and didn't ask her to deliberate. He smirks lopsidedly to himself, pulling her to lie back down next to him. One hands travels to her swelling belly, exploring the curve of the child within. "A son..." he whispers to himself, before falling asleep with his hand there, as if to protect the tiny life within


	16. Chapter 16

**_Thank you all who take the time to read and review. Your comments mean so much to me. =)_**

**_Lyrics - Kings and Queens - 30 Seconds to Mars_**

* * *

_"Into the night  
Desperate and broken  
The sound of a fight  
Father has spoken."_

His stare is cold, hard, and it makes her feel uneasy. She winces at the sound of squealing, as Leliana drags Alistair away, randomly hugging him and rejoicing at the same time. Oghren is insisting on pitchers of ale and wine for all to congratulate the proud papa, smacking Alistair firmly on the rear end and exclaiming that he knew he had it in him all along. Shale looks at Edana and shakes its massive head. "Offspring of the simple minded one? " the golem says, following the party with increasing interest. "This cannot be good… Suppose it turns out far more simple minded? I shall watch this with great interest, and if I think it is becoming far too simple minded I will crush the poor thing out of its misery."

She is left there with Zevran, the both of them staring at one another. "It has come to this then?" He asks her finally, and she nods. She knows that Zevran feels more for her than he lets on, and she feels sorry that she cannot reciprocate the same feelings. She runs her hands through her loose hair, and sighs. "You once told me that love is something you only feel once in a lifetime. Those feelings may come close to that, but they will never match those feelings. I know how you felt about one woman in particular Zevran, you have let me know just how much you felt on very few occasions. I am not she. If I look, think or act like her the fact still remains that I am not her."

Zev swallows at the use of his own words, and thinks to himself that she will never know just how much he really does love her, even if it is not completely. Or maybe it is completely… Whatever the amount, he shuts it off from himself.

* * *

_"We were the kings and queens of promise  
We were the victims of ourselves  
Maybe the children of a lesser god  
Between heaven and hell, Heaven and hell."_

He wants to leave her, leave her side and run away. Be a nomad again, be alone all over again, and not be tied to the wants of the heart. He sees the look of worry in her eyes, and his heart surrenders him to stay. He cannot leave her, something bigger than the both of them was to pass and he could read it on her face as if it were plainly printed there.

"There are things you are not telling all of us." Zevran says, glancing over her shoulder to spy Ogrhen literally pouring wine down Alistair. Leliana is singing, and the other Grey Warden's are merry making with them, though unsure what the party is all about. The scene is merry, and full of happiness. Why she is so grim he does not understand.

"I had a dream…" She says, swallowing hard. She had not even told Alistair about the dream, and here she was telling the other man who competed for her heart. She recants to him the dream of Wynne, and then finding out about her pregnancy soon after. Zevran listens, taking all of it in before he speaks next.

* * *

_"Into your eyes  
Hopeless and taken  
We stole our new lives  
Through blood and pain  
In defense of our dreams  
In defense of our dreams"_

"It all seems so surreal, and I feel like I am but a pawn in some kind of ancient game." She says, looking to him and crossing her arms over her chest. Performing such movement causes her shirt to rise slightly, and Zevran can see the swell of her abdomen. He sighs, disbelieving of the words that are coming to him. "Perhaps that is precisely what you are." She regards him with a serious look, and nods. "I need you to help me Zevran."

He blinks in surprise at her, and waits for her request with baited breath. "I need you to find Morrigan." She says, one hand going to her belly. "I need to know what to expect. What war does she plan?" Zevran agrees to it silently, but she has come to know his look. She opens up her arms, and pulls him into a loving hug. Everyone is so preoccupied with drinking and merry making, that no one notices as they cling together for longer than would be deemed acceptable.

Zevran takes in her scent, and the feel of her against him one last time. He knows that it is going to be a very long time before they speak again, and he may never get to hold her again as long as he lives. His heart is saddened, but he remains composed. An expert thespian till the end…

* * *

_"We were the kings and queens of promise  
We were the victims of ourselves  
Maybe the children of a lesser god  
Between heaven and hell, Heaven and hell."_

The party drag on for hours, and would have continued into the morning had Edana not drug Alistair from the table. Oghren raises his glass at the templar one last time, congratulating him a last time. Alistair gives Edana a lustful look, and tries to kiss her. She wrinkles her nose at his wine breath, and the hall bellows with cheers of approval. She starts walking him towards her room, Oghren calling after them. "Be careful w'her Alistair… Don't want to put a dent in the wee one's head!"

Alistair's eyes widen in a temporary moment of worry-induced sobriety. "Do you think that could really happen?" he asks Edana, who can't help but laugh at him. "I highly doubt it…" Is her choked reply, and his worry melts away to be replaced again with drunken happiness.

She gets him to her room, and has to help him out if the armor he wears daily. As she wrestles him securely into bed, and takes her spot next to him, he turns to her with serious eyes. "This is really happening, isn't it?" She smiles at him weakly, her own thoughts reflecting those same words. The templar sighs happily, and pulls her into his arms.

* * *

_"The age of man is over  
The darkness comes and all  
These lessons that we've learned here  
Have only just begun"_

As the months pass by, Alistair marvels as her belly grows. As if it was going to be ripped from him at any moment, he seems to be on edge incase the other shoe were to suddenly drop. He finds her in the courtyard one autumn afternoon, standing over the tree she planted many months ago. The Warden's cremate those fallen during the joining, but she is Dalish. She took the remaining ashes of Maret and planted a tree over them in the Dalish fashion. She visited this tree often, though as her pregnancy progressed she frequented it very little. He walks up behind her, wrapping muscled arms around her middle section where his son did grow. Both hands on either side of her growing belly, something he did often. She leaned against him, putting her hands over his.

Suddenly there was a great thump from within her, and Alistair recoiled in astonishment. "What in Andraste's holey knees was that?" He said, causing Edana to turn to him laughing. "That was your son…" Alistair's eyes widen, and she takes his hand in hers again. Pressing it to the same spot, she watches as his eyes nearly bug out. The babe continues to kick them, causing its father to nearly die of a heart attack. He leaves his hand there until the movement ceases and then looks into Edana's eyes. All he can see is love there, and he stands promptly. "Marry me." Alistair says.

* * *

_"We were the kings and queens of promise  
We were the victims of ourselves  
Maybe the children of a lesser god  
Between heaven and hell."_

Edana's eyes grow nearly as wide as her male counterpart's. "WHAT?!" She asks, searching his eyes for any sign of joking. She can see he is completely serious, and her knees nearly give out from under her. "What about me not being noble-"

He cuts her off with a kiss. She yields to it, reading his love from within that endless kiss. When he pulls away, she looks at him again. "Say it again." She demands softly.

"Marry me. I do not care if you are not noble, or an elf. I do not care if Eamon throws my crown from the highest tower of Fort Drakon, or gives it to a Gemlock. I want no other woman but you. Marry me." He takes of his mother's amulet as he says it, and puts it around her neck.

Edana looks at the amulet, holding the warm metal in her hands. She raises tearful eyes to Alistair, and sees the hope and love reflecting within his own. "Yes."

* * *

_**"We are the kings  
We are the queens  
We are the kings  
We are the queens"**_


	17. Chapter 17

The winter had come and it was slowing down his progress. Antiva was a land of sand, sun, and good times in both. Ferelden was a land of cold, stone, and forests that would eat you. He could run through the sands of Antiva until he reached each coast, and do it with the utmost ease. Throw a little snow in the mix, and Zevran became some clumsy oaf.

He has started his search in Denerim, it being the closest place to the Peak. He had left early one morning, only turning back to see Edana sticking her head out the window. The feeling of running back to her, to kiss her goodbye was so strong that Zevran had to break into a run and enter the tunnels quickly lest he act on those very intentions.

Denerim had turned out to be a waste of time, though he stayed for a week to listen closely to the whispers around town. Lothering was entirely different, despite its very small population. He heard how a strange brown haired woman was seen near Lake Calenhad, and gave the templars a run for their money. It was his first lead, and so he made his way towards Lake Calenhad. The winter did not let him get far, and he had to stop for a while during a blizzard. There was a farm near the Korcari Wilds, a place he stopped and stayed with a gracious family. Gracious people, with three beautiful voluptuous daughters…

As soon as the snow stopped he had to slip out of there fast lest each daughter found out that they were sharing his affections.

He had gold, plenty of it to be honest. Edana had given him quite a bit before he left, and when he came to Calenhad he decided he would have to wait til the spring months to continue. He took up temporary residence in The Spoiled Princess, a good place to find gossip.

He sat with a mug of the sour ale this place served, a look of distaste on his features. He was eyeing a rather chesty barmaid, trying to decide just how hard he would have to push her to get her companionship for a little while. "Did you hear that the King is returning to Denerim?" A voice behind him says, slurringly slow. His elfin ears twitch, and he eavesdrop expertly.

"Yeh? That sodding half-wit is returning?" says another drunken voice. Quickly Zevran turns his heads to either side to make out the speakers. A table is taken up with a band of what appears to be mercenaries. The human belches loudly, and Zevran's lip curls in mock disgust. "Yeh! They say he is on his way there now, though how he can travel in this…" he motions to a window where the winter is most certainly in full swing. The dwarf laughs, and sways tipsily in his seat. "Maybe if we are lucky he'll get lost in the snow and never be heard from again."

The human mercenary laughs heartily, spilling his mug of ale mostly on the floor. "That's not the best part!" He exclaims suddenly. "They say he has a bride with him!" The dwarf regards his friend with bloodshot eyes, and node. "Yeh? What woman would want to marry that idiot?"

'What woman indeed.' Thinks Zevran as he continues to listen.

The soldier continues. "That's not all either! It's that Elf! The one that they say killed the Archdemon. I don't believe it for a minute, it was probably the King himself. Did you see how they brought her out of there?" The dwarf nods, slopping ale into his bushy red beard. "Yeh, I was there. Looked like the dragon just trampled her…" he interjects as the soldier keeps going.

"The King is going to marry a knife-ear! A bloody knife ear!" Zevran can feel himself gripping his dagger too tightly, when suddenly there is a third voice. It causes him to whip his head around quickly to identify the speaker. "You will not talk about Lady Edana like that anymore." It says calmly, and Zevran sees that it is indeed a familiar face. Cullen, the templar that was imprisoned that night in the tower. "I was there on the top of Fort Drakon. You did not see the face of that Dragon up close, or smell its rotten stench. She walked up to that beast, and she killed it. And it nearly killed her. If it were not for her, you would be food for the darkspawn now. And your wives would become worse than that." The soldier looks at Cullen, with dull eyes. "No Knife ear could ever best a Dragon single handedly…" he starts when the dwarf beside him speaks up. "That's not true, what about that Garahel fellow…"

The soldier seems to think about this, and then shakes his head. "Naw, she was just some elf whore that the King kept as a straggler. With that, Zevran forces himself to take a brisk walk outside before he does something very stupid. Not even five minutes later, whilst standing in the blizzard cooling off, he sees Cullen throw the merc out the door. The man lands face first in the snow, and Zevran can't help himself. He walks to the merc and helps him up. "Come friend lets get you out of the wind!" He says, quickly pulling him to the shadows and shoving a dagger straight into the man's heart. As soon as the merc hangs limply in his arms, Zevran deposits him in a snow bank. The snow will cover him, and he will be forgotten until next spring when the ground thaws.

He walks inside, taking up his seat at the bar again. Soon he has the barmaid in his lap, and is sipping on his private stash of Antivan whiskey. "This is the most excitement we have had in years…" She slurs as he leads her back to his room. "The last time it got so riled up in here, was when the templars went chasing after that apostate…" Zevran glances back at her with curious eyes. "An Apostate? I have never seen one! Tell me, what does an apostate look like?" He says, as he tosses her on the bed and she erupts into a fit of giggles. He begins to untie her bodice as she tells him. "She was beautiful! And Scary! Her eyes were yellow like a wolf, and when the Templar's figures out what she was she turned into a bear! I think a few of them died that night. When the fight was over, she was suddenly a bird. She flew off to the west! I thought for sure I was dreaming!"

Zevran grinned, pulling her bodice off all the way and exposing her oversized chest to him in its full glory. "My dear, that is the best news I have heard all day…" He says as he lowers himself atop her.


	18. Chapter 18

_"You could stay and watch me fall  
And of course I'll ask for help  
Just stay with me now  
Take my hand  
We could take our heads off  
stay in bed just make love that's all  
Just stay with me now_

I'm melting (I'm melting)  
In your eyes  
I lost my place  
Could stay a while  
and I'm melting

In your eyes  
Like my first time  
That I caught fire  
Just stay with me  
Lay with me  
In your eyes  
I lost my place  
Could stay a while  
and I'm melting  
In your eyes  
Like my first time  
That I caught fire  
Just stay with me lay with me  
(Stay with me, lay with me)

In your eyes  
Let's sleep till the sun burns out  
I'm melting in your eyes (I'm melting in your eyes)  
Let's sleep till the sun burns out  
I'm melting in your eyes"

_I Caught Fire(In Your eyes) - The Used. _

* * *

Braving the tunnels in the winter was a very bad idea, especially when she was so heavy with child she could do no more than waddle around. Alistair joked while they were in the tunnels, saying that he could carry her on his back. The mechanics of it had her so perplexed that he nearly choked to death on a piece of cheese. "I am a bad man aren't I?" he asked her. She just glared at him.

She insisted on fighting. Her bow was strapped to her back, even if it was at an odd angle because the swell of her growing body, she still managed to pull it out and get a few shots off at the spiders that infested the tunnels as they made their way through it. Seeing Alistair's face in the torchlight as they neared the mouth of the tunnels was quite the sight. She could almost feel his relief.

Once they made it to a little town just outside of the tunnels, she consigned to spend the rest of the journey in a carriage. When the coachman realized that Alistair was King, they were provided the best carriages without a cost. Still, once they had reached Denerim, she pressed a small purse with sovereigns into the man's hand. He bowed graciously to her, and asked what he should call her. She was just about to speak, when Alistair interrupted. "You may call her Lady Edana. Your future Queen."

Eamon met them at the gates, "Thank the Maker!" He exclaimed, embracing Alistair as if he thought he would never see him again as long as he lived. There were so many people there to welcome them that Edana suddenly felt self conscious, pulling the fur cloak she had worn around her as to hide her condition. "My dear warden!" Eamon said, pulling her into a light embrace. "I am certain you both are tired, and would like to freshen up!" He said, leading them into the castle. Alistair was suddenly pulled to the east wings to speak of the things he had missed in his absence.

She glanced over her shoulder as he was led away, and smiled as he blew her a kiss. She kept the cloak wrapped around her, as she was led to the ladies quarters.

Leliana was in heaven, pulling dresses out of the armoire and holding them up, modeling them for a very swollen Edana. Edana rolled her eyes at one that was very pink and frilly. "I would not be caught dead in anything like that!" She said, much to Leliana's horror. "But you have to dress up for dinner! There will be a grand feast! And then there is the wedding! We have to commission someone to make you a grand gown! And shoes!" She sighs happily. Edana looks down at the blue frock that had been fashioned into a maternity dress and sighs. She rested one hand on her enormous belly, and noticed she was shaking. The elven servants were running a hot bath, and she sees their questioning stares as to her condition. Suddenly she wanted to drown herself in the bath.

Alistair finds himself cleaned, and stuffed into the same stuffy clothing he had come to detest about being King. Strangely, he finds his armor more comforting that this satin and velour ensemble. He has joined Eamon again in the study, no wait his study. The regent is still babbling on about the events of the Kingdom, and Alistair is growing increasingly impatient. When Eamon mentions that a Teryn's daughter has become of age to wed Alistair decides that he has heard enough.

"I do not need you to play Matchmaker for me any uncle. I have found a suitable bride on my own." Eamon rejoices in this, and immediately begins to name off the women that were in his traveling party. "That pretty little Orlesian? I say you inherited some of my traits after all!" He says excitedly, talking of Leliana. Alistair runs his temples with a minor headache. "No, not Leliana." He says, and Eamon turns tom him confused. "Well then who?"

Alistair clears his throat, and looks his uncle straight in the eye. "I have asked Edana to marry me." Eamon finds it surprising that he is not in the least bit shocked. "I am sorry my boy, but she is not considered noble and –"

"That's not it at all is it uncle?" Alistair says angrily. "Leliana is _far_ from nobility, but that has nothing to do with it anymore does it? Edana isn't human, and that's the biggest problem of all. Have you all forgotten how she single-handedly defeated the Archdemon for all the people of Ferelden? Have you forgotten how she saved you, your son, and your wife? Her blood is good enough to spill for the greater good of Ferelden, but not good enough to marry the King. Or mother his children?" Eamon opens his mouth, as if to say something but Alistair stops him. "I will not marry anyone else but her. I will rewrite the laws, defy every noble voice, I'll even swear off my crown if that means that I mus in order to be with her."

Eamon takes a deep breath, and shakes his head at Alistair. "In time you will understand-" He starts before Alistair grabs up a fruit bowl and heaves it at the wall. "Perhaps you aren't hearing me uncle. Let me help you, grab your ears and pull your head out of your _noble_ ass and listen to me." Eamon stands stunned at this sudden change in personality, and watches his nephew with shock. "I am marrying Edana. With-or-without-your-approval." Eamon tries one last time to say something, as Alistair begins to leave the room. "Save it Uncle. I am not so much a coward as my father was, to leave the woman he loved with child because of her status. And I damned sure won't leave my son to be shunned and called a Royal Bastard, as I was my entire life." Eamon's eyes widen and Alistair smiles. "That's right. My son."

A feast is being held, though an impromptu one, all the nobles that were at court would be there. Edana found herself staring in the mirror, marveling at what Leliana had done. Her clan tattoos more visible than before, the black kohl around her eyes making them stand out even more. Her lips were as red as a ruby, and her ebony hair was slicked back and plaited. A tiny bit of golden ribbon has been treaded through these plaits; starting at her widow's peak and coiling behind her neck in to gracefully arranged buns. A gown had been made for her with haste, and it is the exact shade of her eyes, a fiery golden topaz. She feels slightly uncomfortable in the fabric, longing for her simple elven clothing, but knowing that this is necessary for the shemlens.

Leliana herself is dressed in a vibrant blue dress, her hair in waves around her face. She smiles at Edana, and pulls her towards the great hall. They are announced, and she feels all their eyes on her stomach as she walks forward into the room. All of them save Alistair. His eyes are on her face, then her body, and then her face again. She feels the approval in his stare, and suddenly she doesn't feel so… fat. He rushes forward and takes her hand in his, smiling as he sees his mother's amulet glinting in the bright light of the dining hall. He turns to the nobles at court and introduces her. "This is Edana of the Dalish. My fiancée, and your future Queen." He says proudly. One hand then is placed on her large and very prominent belly. "And this is our son. The heir to the Theirin bloodline. Your future King."

He says it with such conviction that everyone in the room falls silent, and he glowers at them as if daring them to challenge his words. They say nothing, and watch with silent expressions as Alistair kisses the mother of his child publicly for the first time ever.

At the end of the banquet, she finds herself in her rooms alone. The hours tread on and try as she might, she cannot sleep. This is what she wants; this is all that is good and right within her heart. She cannot help but feel out of place. A soft knock on her door rouses her, and Alistair walks in still wearing his formal suit. He says nothing to her, simply holds his hand out and drags her willingly from the room. He takes her to the Chantry, where a familiar face stands waiting. "Mother Hannah?" Edana asks, seeing the elder woman's face light up. "I feared you had fallen when Lothering was overtaken." The Sister just shakes her head, and Edana suddenly looks at Alistair with questioning.

"Marry me tonight." He says simply, smiling as her eyes widen at his words. "We can have a proper wedding later. I am not letting them hold a landsmeet to decide whether or not you can become my wife. Marry me tonight, in the eyes of the Maker and this good woman, so that she may bear witness our union." Edana realizes what he plays at and at first she is reluctant. "They would rather have you assassinated than have me stripped of my title Edana. Marry me tonight. Err.. Please?"

Edana's heart surges with pride at her lover and she realizes for the first time that he is turning out to be a very just and proud king. Taking his hand in hers, she smiles as Mother Hannah begins to recite the chant.

Together in the night, they pledge their never-ending love for one another and are wed. And as they walk back to his rooms, her heart swells as he exclaims, "You're my wife!"

It couldn't have been more perfect, even if she hadn't gotten married in her nightgown.


	19. Chapter 19

By popularity, Zevran! =)

Lyrics - I Don't Love You - My Chemical Romance

* * *

_"Well, when you go,  
So never think I'll make you turn to stay.  
And maybe when you get back,  
I'll be off to find another way._

When after all this time that you still owe,  
You're still the good-for-nothin', I don't know.  
So take your gloves and get up,  
Baby, get up  
While you can!"

The world is a soggy wetland; the snow that had fallen over the winter months is beginning to melt as spring begins. Zevran is staring out of the window of his rented room within The Spoiled Princess. For the first time in several weeks his bedchamber is empty of anyone but himself. The early light of morning chases away the dark of the night, and the brightening light enraptures him. His mind travels to times when he was not alone. A time when she was there with him, her smile brighter than the sweltering sun over that hangs over Antiva. He remember's the nights they spent together on the beach, and how he threw his reserve into the sea for the first time. How he had chased her! She ran and ran, through the foamy waves the surf brought in. They were so young... When he did finally catch her, he wrestled her to the ground and they laughed together. She was still pure and innocent when they took her from him. The lily-white snow reminds him so of her.

* * *

_"When you go,  
Would you even turn to say,_

"I don't love you  
Like I did  
Yesterday!"?"

In the middle of the great divide, he glances up and suddenly feels so miniscule between the mountains on either side of him. He walked and drifted in and out of his memories, the memories that feature Edana. He remembers how they met, how he had tried to rush her and fulfill his contract. Then suddenly there was an arrow in his shoulder, an intense cold radiating from it as he fell to the ground, the pain causing him to lose his conscious. When he came to, she was standing over him engulfed in the bright light of the day. He thought at first she was an angel, but then quickly realized that he must be mistaken because Heaven was no longer a city paved in gold. When he realized that he was alive, he was immediately attracted to her. Her strength, her cunning, those were the first in his long list of feelings for her. How hard he tried at first to get her into his bed, but she averted him at every move. Just when he thought he was closer to what he desired, she seemed to roll the dice just so. And back at square one he as again.

Then there was Alistair. He watched with a growing jealousy as she breathlessly accepted a dying red rose. He remembered silently scoffing at the templar, thinking that of all the bone-headed things to give a woman... But then her eyes lit up, and nervously they were kissing... Why hadn't he thought of that?

* * *

_"Sometimes I'll cry so hard from pleading,  
So sick and sad of all the needless beating.  
But baby, when they knock you  
Down and out,  
It's where you oughta stay._

And after all the blood that you still owe  
Another dollar's just another blow.  
So fix your eyes and get up,  
Baby, get up  
While you can!"

He should have backed off, and Maker help him, how he had tried. Then there was that dusty pair of Antivan boots. She handed them to you, and smiled that brilliant smile that always made you want to kiss her and never stop. And the gloves... The gloves that looked as his mother's had. He found himself constantly reminding his self that assassins were not capable of love. Still, he finds he is more than capable of love. What's more, he welcomes it willingly.

* * *

_"When you go,  
Would you even turn to say,_

"I don't love you  
Like I did  
Yesterday!"?

Well, come on, come on!

When you go,  
Would you have the guts to say,

"I don't love you  
Like I loved you  
Yesterday"

Orzammar reminds him of Antiva for the heat alone. Although the darkness makes him walk around in a ceaseless gloom. Carefully you listen to the talk of the dwarves, though it does not take long before you hear about the pregnant witch when she stopped over a spell. She was here, and that is all that matters for the time being. He retreats to his rooms lonely, for the dwarven women just do not hold the same appeal to him as most other women do, and then men...

So to the west she had headed, and to the west he will continue. To Orlais, a land of colorful people and passionate music. The ship he had booked was full of beautiful women, and beautiful men. Still, as the sails raise and cast off is completed, there is a squeezing feeling in his heart as he says a silent goodbye to both of the women he loves. One in death, the other in life.

* * *

_**I don't love you  
Like I loved you  
Yesterday**_


	20. Chapter 20

**_Okay, I want to thank you all for all the wonderful comments. I seem to be pushing a min of 3 chapters a day lately. YIKES!_**

**_Just a small disclaimer, I am a mother. The experience of birth is very hard to describe, a most joyous but exhasting event to partake in. I tried my best to relate Edana's to my own (save for smelling lots of trees). It is not nasty or gross, I just tried to capture the emotional experience I had during my own labor and birth. I hope you guys like it._**

**_Also, the name Kearney is a name of Celtic origin. It does indeed mean little warrior. The correct pronunciation of this name is Kar-Ney. But feel free to mull it over as you please._**

* * *

"You WHAT?!" Eamon exclaims, eyeing his King with an overwhelming feeling of disbelief. The landsmeet has been called, and Alistair stands in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest. "The marriage must be considered annulled! It must be-"

"Why is it so hard for everyone to accept?" A voice says from the top right balcony. A familiar face greets Alistair with a smile, a silent congratulation. Bann Teagan waits as all eyes in the room turn towards him. "I cannot believe that I stand here in this room, and hear this argument from you of all people Eamon. Not after all the good lady did to save your life. Not after all that she has done for this Kingdom and it's peoples. And not after she has done for each and every noble in this room."

A voice across the room shouts suddenly, "She is an elf!" The crowd follows in a rabble of clashing words and try as he might Alistair cannot silence them. The sound of shattering glass is what brings silence to the room, and there stands an elven woman with ruby red hair, a broken bottleneck in her hands. He smiles, it was Shianni, an elven woman he had promoted to a noble rank.

The tiny frame of this strong woman is seen more clearly as she steps forward, and addresses the nobles. "It is apparent that change is not as important to this Kingdom as some would carry on." She says defiantly. "I commend his Majesty for seeing past the racial differences and looking to a new future, and it shames me to see you all standing here bickering as if you can decide the fate of this land. You people chose his Majesty to rule, and when he makes a decision you second-guess him. This man is willing to forgive mistakes that are ancient history, mistakes that the likes of you has held onto for centuries. He is willing to drop the grudge, and move forward. You would consider yourself honorable to serve beneath him."

The nobles are silent for sometime, pondering over the she-elf's words. Alistair breaks the silence, clearing his throat loudly. "I have already married Lady Edana. We will have an heir in just a short time. If any of you oppose my union, speak now. If I must relinquish my crown and status to live penniless beside her I will." The nobles take a short recess to ponder it. As they end the landsmeet, he is greeted with the sounds of approval from most of the families, even Eamon.

As he pulls on his cloak to brave the lingering cold, Eamon pulls him aside. There is smile on the man's face, as he embraces his nephew. "Were your father alive, he would be proud." Alistair blushes at this, not sure how to take such a compliment. "If my father were here, he would no doubt be boxing my ears. But then again, if he were here I wouldn't be, and I would still be married to the woman I love." Eamon just shakes his head at Alistair, and follows the King out.

* * *

A ripple of pain flutters through her abdomen as the babe moves again. Leliana giggles happily, her hand following the baby's movements with glee. She looks up and sees the look of pain on Edana's face as the baby moved. "He certainly has run out of room hasn't he?" Edana nods tiredly. Her time is nigh, and the impending birth has rendered the one fearless woman so completely shaken. Where she still with her clan, the midwife would take her into the deep of the woods and assist. But she was miles away from forest and in no condition to travel. She had sent a messenger to the Brecilian forest pleading with Lanaya to come and assist with her birth, but no word had been received just yet. Another ripple of pain flutters through her abdomen, causing her to exhale sharply. Leliana regards her friend with concerned eyes and then smiles. "How often has that been happening?" She asked, and Edana waved her hand at the bard as if to say shut up. After the pain recedes, she looks at Leliana. "Most of the morning." She says, resting a hand on the swell of her belly as if to tell the baby inside to calm down. Leliana just stares with a smile growing on her face, watching as the realization crept into Edana's eyes. She looks at Leliana with a questioning and the bard simply nods. "Shall I fetch the midwife?" she asks the Queen. Edana is just about to protest when a third wave of pain ripples though her and renders her speechless. She grinds her teeth and nods.

Alistair is pacing, it seems like he has been pacing for hours. Eamon and Teagan watch him, their attempts to calm him had ended long ago with Alistair picking Teagan up from the ground and physically moving him out of the way. It was close to midnight, and his stomach knotted as a cry of pain emitted from the room adjacent to this one. "Is this supposed to take so long?" He asks frantically, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands worriedly. Eamon nods at him, "I thought I would lose my mind when Isolde birthed Conner." This does not seem to calm the worried King, and they have to jump to hold him back when another cry is heard from the room.

Edana is covered with sweat, her heart galloping in her chest. The midwife is talking but her fear is so great that she cannot hear the woman. Leliana is still at her side, mopping the perspiration off her brow. She pants as another great contraction hits her. Suddenly she is screaming with the pain of it, her legs going rubbery. She can't do this, can't do it. She begins to panic, grabbing at her hair and throwing her head back in exasperation. Her body does the opposite, urging her that she can do it, pushing the babe out as if on it's own will. Another contraction, and she swears her sanity will break soon. "Oh Andraste!" she cries painfully, and gives into the urgings of her body. Suddenly there is this calm; it washes over her like a cool wave. She smells the trees, and the earthy scent the forest had. But there is another smell, one of cold mornings and wintry nights in high towers. She feels as if someone else is holding her, urging her silently. For a moment she swears she can hear voices, a familiar matronly one. She sighs calmly, another contraction rippling through her and she braces herself. The smell of the forest grows stronger, and there is this pressure. She feels the needs to burst through this pressure, as if her very life depended on it. Her strength is waning as she tries to release this awful pressure. And then suddenly there was a sweet release.

She falls back to the bed gasping, the smell of the forest retreating as if it had never been. There is suddenly a strong cry, and she feels the world returning to her. The cry gets stronger, and she realizes Leliana is handing her a small wriggling bundle. Then she sees him, and such an overwhelming feeling of love washes over her. The baby stops crying, opening its tiny eyes wide as if to study this foreign face. Tears well up in her eyes, as those tiny eyes look her over carefully. The tiny orbs that study her carefully are the same color as Alistair's, though the tuft of wet hair atop his tiny head is as raven black as her own. She studies this tiny person just as carefully as he studies her, mother and son meeting each other for the first time. He very much resembles his father, she thinks, as she places a kiss on his tiny nose. The baby protests, as if to scold his mother for interrupting his concentration. She smiles at this feisty little person, and falls irrevocably in love. She hears someone talking, and she turns her head to Leliana. She can only make out the word name from her friends mouth and smiles at the baby in her arms.

"Kearney." she says tiredly as the baby shakes tiny fists at her. "My little warrior"

The door is flung open by a very astonished Alistair, who spies his wife and new son lying before him. He walks carefully to the bed where they lay, and kneels next to it. The baby now turns chocolate eyes to his father, who begins to sob happily.

All that remained in the room had left, by the ushering of Leliana who shut the door silently behind all of them.


	21. Chapter 21

For all you Zevran fans!

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The sounds of the brothel echoed around him, and oddly enough he found the noise comforting. Having grown up in one, the ale and opium atmosphere felt oddly like home to him. He was almost as fond of it as he was the smell of leather. The brothels or Orlais were much different from any others he had frequented. The women and men here were highly skilled in their arts, and an art it was to them indeed.

He smiled as he watched one of the voluptuous girls pass him, and remembered how he had gotten here. His search had led him to the end of the world it would seem, as he has frequented every continent that was inhabitable. Sixteen years of travel, hunting a witch that seemed to elude him at every turn was starting to take its toll on his patience. It was as if she knew someone was onto her, and he always seemed to pick up her trail. Just when he thought he had her, she would disappear again. Months or years would pass, and then something would lead him towards her again.

His latest hunch had led him back to Orlais, though the trail had grown silent shortly after. He had been in an alehouse, when a very beautiful woman had approached him. She asked if she could purchase his company for the eve, and he had accepted. What he hadn't expected was that this woman was the proprietor of the most well-known brothel in Val Royeaux and she was trying to dispose of local competition. As her dagger glided through the air at him, he remembered being charmed. She tried very hard to kill him, her aggravation growing as he evaded every attack and parried with his own. He couldn't help it; her dance of death had turned him on.

He considered the battle a tease, a sort of sick foreplay. He could read desire in her body language, and when he could no longer contain himself he had taken her to the ground. They didn't leave the room for two days...

Oddly enough, afterwards she had offered him a job. Seeing it as a good way to gain information, he had accepted. He was now the highest paid associate in the brothel. The irony caused him to laugh at times, considering his past, however he would do whatever it took to get the information he was sent after and so he obliged.

This evening he leaned against the wall, watching the room around him. Many Orlesian nobles were here this eve, and the women were in the throes of seduction. He suddenly heard a grumble, and turned his head towards the bar. A well-dressed man sat there, a goblet of wine tipped into the air trickling from around his mouth to the red velvet robe he wore. "Stupid eagle eyed bitch! I have served the Empress for many years, and to just be replaced like that!" He yells in his drunkenness, slamming the goblet down so hard the glass base suddenly breaks. The bartender quickly cleans up the mess of blown glass and replaces it with a newly filled goblet. Zevran feels a tug of curiosity and familiarity at his words, and walks to the man.

"Tsk tsk tsk... Such anger in this happy place?" He says, sauntering up to the man and sizing him up. The Orlesian was slightly overweight and bald. His robes were expensive, and he wore a brooch that bore the Empress' royal seal. The man turned eyes to him, looking over Zevran with interest. "Men do not suit my tastes..." The man said, bringing the wine to his lips again and slurping it down. Zevran smiled at the challenge, and shook his head. "Ah, but a bit of friendly company is welcomed, you look as if you need it my friend. Now let us have a real drink!" He nodded at the bartender, who brought out a bottle of Antivan Brandy and two snifters. Pouring three heavy dollops into each snifter and placing one in front of the man. The man did not see the small vial that Zevran had quickly emptied into the brandy, as he wouldn't. Only those trained of eye could catch a movement so fast. He smirked as the man raised the snifter to his lips and drank.

Several hours later, he walked behind the Orlesian. The man had a harlot on each arm, and was stopping every few feet to paw at them. The girls giggled, and let him. Zev himself had inspired this, telling the man he knew no pleasure until he had experienced the best of Antiva and Orlais at the same time. "As close to the Golden City as anyone had ever come!" he said, and the man had gladly agreed. The truth serum he had emptied into the man's brandy had worked quite well, and he had gotten the man to speak about the curious woman who had usurped his advisory position. He described her in great detail, how she could change shape and weave magic. Also how she had latched to the Empress' ear and not let go. Zevran smiled as he removed his clothing. He had found Morrigan at long last.


	22. Chapter 22

"Shhhh..." he said, dropping to a crouch and inching along the ground. The female elf behind him did the same, and he was suddenly thankful for the silent Dalish armor he had received as a gift. One bow drawn, he inched closer to the creature in the clearing. His mother had taught him the art of a ranger quite well. Still he had never seen one of these creatures up close before. The pale halla was oblivious to his presence as he crept towards it. He put a hand out to the girl behind him, a silent gesture to say "Stay back". The halla's head snapped up with his movement, and it froze as if expecting danger. He crooned to it, speaking to it in a tongue his other had taught him. The halla softened, and allowed him to move closer to it. He snagged a handful of the grass at his feet, holding out a palmful of the tender shoots to the majestic beast. Still he spoke to it softly, and it dipped it head to nibble at the grass in his hand. He smiled and waved his hand for the girl to continue. As soon as she was at his side, he moved his hand back as the girl put hers forward to stroke the creature's head gently. The creature nipped at her hands, bleating softly. Her eyes lit up, and she turned her gaze to the raven headed boy beside her, her eyes beaming in pleasure.

Suddenly there was a crashing sound behind them, and the halla squealed in fright. It bounded off; leaving the two of them to face whatever was behind them. The commotion had been caused by a fallen soldier who had tripped over a growth in the forest. "Damnit! Logan!" The raven haired boy said, his face turning red in anger. The female elf beside him giggled, but also felt regret that the soldier had ruined such a special moment. "What are you doing here?" The boy asked the soldier. "I thought I asked you to stay in camp..."

The soldier, Logan as it were, struggled to his feet. "You know I can't let you wander off on your own, your highness." Kearney ran a hand through his short raven hair, and looked to the blonde elf beside him. The girl was about the same age as he, his age old best friend. Though as of late he has been noticing lots of things about her, and finds himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her. His aggravation was that his guard had ruined a special moment, but he was right nonetheless. He was not supposed to be out there on his own, such is the life of a Prince. He extended a hand to the girl beside him, helping her from a crouching position. "Let's get back before my father sends out a search party."

The walk back to Denerim took a few good hours, but they arrived before Alistair had put the prince-alert as he had in the past. He stopped at the gates of the alienage, and looked to the girl. "Did you have fun Ina?" He asked carefully, smiling as she glowed with happiness. "Yes! I have heard so many stories of the Halla, I never thought I would get to see one up close unless I ran off to join the Dalish!" She hugged him, and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you at the party later!" she said as he blushed crimson, and tried to stutter out something witty. She turned and trotted off towards her home, and the prince sighed. The soldier beside him cleared his throat, and Kearney groaned. His shoulders slumped in disapproval as he started off in the direction of the palace.

They arrived at the palace gates a short time later, and the prince stood outside of the doors groaning. There was to be a masquerade ball tonight, as part of the prince's coming of age. His birthday had been months ago, but they had waited till now to throw a grand party. He detested parties, and the stuffy atmosphere of any bodies in a room. Traits he had inherited from his Dalish mother. Groaning in distaste a final time, he walked through the waiting doors.

Leliana was the one who found him first, his mother's lady in waiting. She rolled her eyes, and grabbed him by his slightly pointed ear. "Ow! OW! OW!" He said, wincing as Leliana began dragging him off in the direction of his room. "You knew this day was important, and still you have been gone all day!" The boy was tall like his father and so he had to stoop a little when Leliana grabbed him. She released him at the door, and he stood grumbling and clutching his slightly red ear. He looked at her sheepishly, and frowned a little. "Sorry?" Leliana humphed at him and shook her head, "Not as sorry as you could be if you are late." He nodded and scrambled into his room to get ready.

He stood looking into his mirror at the grey ensemble he was thrust into, groaning inwardly. He turns as he hears a sigh behind him, turning to find his mother standing at the doorway. She is smiling at him, though he can read her discomfort in her court clothes. "My boy. All grown up." He grimaces at his mother, and shakes his head. "I am just as grown today as I was yesterday mother. Do we really have to do this?"

Edana knew his discomfort, looking down at her deep blue dress and shook her head. "We do it because you are the son of the King, and because this is to honor you becoming a man." He grumbled and she smiled again, turning him to face her and straightening his hair. "I don't want to be King, Mother." He says, his voice taking on a hint of whine and she shook her head. "Your father said the same thing." She replied looking into her sons eyes. "He said that he didn't want the responsibility, and that he would not be a good King. But look at all he has done for Kingdom. He has risen from nothing, to a good King. And I know, in my heart, that you will be a great King." She sighs emotionally at her son, knowing what little she did of the future made it hard. It had been eighteen years since Morrigan's ritual. She would act soon, Edana knows this.

"I am going to Soldier's Peak tomorrow." She said to her son, reading his reaction. "You will be coming with me." He smiled widely, and hugged his mother. "Really? Can I bring..." She cut him off before he could make any requests. "This is not some royal visit Kearney, we are going to meet a friend of mine. There are some things that you should know."

He reads the grave look on her face and furrows his brow. "What is this about?" She shook her head, though the look of worry was still painted on her face. "You will know soon enough.. Now come we mustn't keep you father waiting."


	23. Chapter 23

**_Bah! Fluff!!! Sorry if this chapter royally blows. I promise the next one will be far more exciting. _**

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He winced at the sound of the trumpeters. She looked to her son, her gaze telling him that he must humor everyone there, and to act responsibly. "Queen Edana and Prince Kearney" said the bard, announcing their presence to the room happily. Alistair was seated in his throne, his eyes examining his wife and son. He feels drunk with pride, his eyes travelling over Edana in her deep blue frock. She wore no makeup, she did not need any, but he is still awestruck by her beauty. The crown atop her head was dainty, a gift from the forger Wade.

His eyes run over his son, and the pride he feels surges through him further, making him feel as if his head was a balloon of hot air and might explode at any moment. The child was stubborn like his mother, as well as agile. But he held himself proudly like his father, as well as possessing Alistair's flair for sarcasm. The King stood, walking to the middle of the room to meet his family. He gently hugged his son, chuckling inwardly as his son tensed slightly in his arms. He gave the boy an all knowing nod, and then turned his gaze to Edana. "Maker's breath, but you are beautiful." He said, placing a few fingers under her chin to turn her face up to him. He kissed her gently, and then offered her his arm. Together they walk back to the throne, were Alistair takes his seat, His Queen and his heir on either side of him. The music sounds, and suddenly the floor is a swirling vortex of colored fabric.

"I see you got cleaned up on time." Alistair says to his son, glancing over to catch the boy squirm discreetly on the spot. "Er... Yes I just went for a walk..." Alistair shakes his head at his son, taken a-back at the boy's fearless nature as usual. "I thought we made this clear, you are the only heir to the throne. We cannot have you kidnapped or worse." Kearney shifted a little, feeling rather shaken at his father's stern tone. He opens his mouth to fire back some kind of defiance, but his mother stops him. "The boy is fine Alistair, and this is no place for a family squabble." The King nods, and sets his gaze forward again. The song soon comes to an end, and the colorful sea of dancer's part with applause.

Edana watched as her handsome husband stands, noting the exhaustion in his eyes. He has aged well, a few wrinkles gathering at the corners of his eyes and mouth, and she smiles. Those lines meant that he was happy, and she feels proud that though their life had been full of death she had been able to provide him with happiness. Alistair stands, and all the eyes of court are on him. "My friends, I have asked you to attend this celebration today to honor my son." He turns affectionate eyes to his child, placing one hand on his shoulder. "Err.. I do apologize. I was never good at making speeches. That's what I have my wife for." Edana glares at Alistair as a blush creeps up to the tips of her elfin ears.

Alistair chuckles lightly, as do most of the attendee's upon seeing the Queen's reaction. "So, I ask you all to forgive me as I stumble through this." He swallows, and tries to tune out the presence of everyone in the room. "My son, today is the day that Ferelden recognizes you as a man by age. But becoming a man is more than that. It takes a great amount of responsibility to be grown. The Maker blessed me when he allowed me the ability to watch you grow from a child to an adult. In you, my son, I see strength and humility. You are courageous and passionate, but what's more you are compassionate and just. It is with great pride and love that I am able to see you've grown into a man. Today we say goodbye to Kearney the boy, and we welcome with opens arms Kearney the man."

Edana felt her heart swell with joy, and noticed that tears were welling up in her eyes. She suppressed a smile when she saw Alistair wiping at his own. Maker love him, he always was a bit softer than she. Her son was also caught in with the contagious pride, for he reached out and embraced his father. The sound of thunderous applause sounded around them.

As the applause died, Edana stepped forward then to address her son. "Your father and I have a gift for you." Kearney blinked at his mother and felt his anticipation. "These items we present to you aided us during the blight, and so we pass them to you in hopes that you will also accomplish great things with them." She motioned as the servants wheeled out a covered armor stand. From the other side, two servants were carrying what appeared to be a velvet covered box. Edana went first, stepping forward and nodding to the servants with the armor stand. They pulled the cover off, revealing heavily Polished Elven Armor that was engraved with silver leaves. Resting against the base of it was a bow made of Ironbark. Kearney swallowed a lump and looked to his mother. "These items are of Dalish make, the armor is ancient and enchanted. The bow was given to me as a gift from the master smith Varathorn. I wore this armor during my battle with the Archdemon, and now I give it to you." Kearney marveled at the armor, and then turned to his mother to give her a warm hug.

When he pulled away, he turned then to his father. Alistair nodded at the servants who pulled away the cloth to reveal a long sword. The sword was blue steel, and glinted in the light of the ballroom. It was unlike any sword he had ever seen. Beneath the blue blade was a shield that bore a crest of Griffons. Kearney swallowed and looked at his father. He knew the stories of Duncan, for Alistair had told them to him when he was a child. "This sword was made from metal that fell from the stars. It was presented to me on the eve of battle by your mother, and I used it to help drive the darkspawn out of Denerim. I named this blade Starfang. Beneath you will find the shield of the legendary Grey Warden Duncan. I hope that when you carry them into battle, they serve you as valiantly as they have me."

The hall thundered with applause, and Kearney embraced his father once more. The gifts were wheeled away, and the music started again. Kearney was still thanking his father graciously when Alistair spied someone coming towards them. He grinned at the blonde haired elf, and leaned into his son. "I do believe that you have company." Kearney turned to see Ina waiting for him. Her golden hair was pulled back and blue flowers had been woven into it. The light blue dress was not as fancy as some of the ones worn by the ladies in court, however he still thought she was the most beautiful girl alive. She blushed as he walked over to her, his mouth was hanging open so wide that she laughed at him.

"You… y-you look amazing!" He said, trying not to stutter and trying to compose himself. She blushed again, her face going almost completely crimson. "Thank you." She said softly. He stood there for a moment, just gawking at her and making her blush harder. Alistair smirked, tapping his son on the shoulder. He leaned in to his son, and whispered into his ear. "The ladies do not like it so much when you stare son, why don't you try asking her to dance?"

Kearney nodded then, turning back to Ina. "I, uh… Err… W-w-ould you like to dance? With me?" The girl laughed then, and Kearney frowned. "Aw, what do you find so funny?" The girl just giggled, taking his hand and pulling him to the floor. Edana came to stand close to her husband, causing him to turn and wrap an arm about her. "Well I see that is another trait he has inherited of yours." She said quietly, looking up at her husband with humor alight in her eyes. "Hm?" He said, watching as his son twirled the girl around the dance floor. "What's that my dear?" He asked her, as she chuckled at him. Edana turned her husband's face to hers and kissed him gently before answering. "Why your amazing gift of words." Alistair smirked at her, and kissed her back. "Well he is going to be King. The witty one-liners couldn't have died with me."

He danced with Ina for most of the night, though they didn't say so much as a few words to one another. The minstrel's called the last dance, and Ina stopped. "It is getting late…" She said quietly, looking up at him with tired eyes. As she went to walk away, he grabbed her hand to stop her. She turned to him, blushing again and quickly placed a kiss on his lips. He froze at first, unsure of what to do and then kissed her back. The girl pulled away then, and left him standing there alone. He smiled to himself as he walked to his chamber, suddenly convinced that the party was not so bad after all.


	24. Chapter 24

**_This chapter is short, but thats because I am devious. IDK if there will be three chapters today, but there will most def be a Zevran Chapter today. I have another Fic in the works in the L4D section and I find myself horribly torn. Ah, video games!_**

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For a few seconds, he was rooted to the spot in fear. The Hurlock before them screamed its war cry, and then the ambush came. Arrows whizzed past him, and he felt the air part as one sailed deadly close to his arm. He stared for a few more seconds, his eyes shifting to his mother who had blades drawn. She ran into battle, one blade impaling the nearest Hurlock with one, and decapitating t easily with the other. He drew the blue blade his father had given him, and charged into battle after her.

When the last Gemlock had fallen, he turned to his mother. Edana stood over the fallen emissary wiping her blades on the grass. He cleared his throat, and she turned emotionless eyes to him. "Was that…?" She nodded to her son, and furrowed her brow. She had not seen darkspawn so close to the Peak before. It was as if they were organizing, launching sieges upon the Warden's Keep. She sighed, that couldn't be happening…. Could it?

Kearney studied the dead around him, his eyes floating over them and noting his adversaries. He noted their flimsy armor, and rag tag weapons. Obviously they didn't win on strength or skill, he thought to himself, but their numbers were great. He saw the troubled look on his mother's face, and realized this meant more than just a small ambush. She broke off into a sprint towards the keep, and he after hear. For once he wished the assigned guard his father was insistent on were with them.

He ran behind his mother easily, as did Leliana. It did seem that they were running for hours, the woods around them a blur. Suddenly the tree line disappeared and they were running towards the keep. Darkspawn bodies littered the ground, but they are starting to see the bodies of other fallen as well. They can see more darkspawn inside the compound, as well as some Grey Warden's engaged in battle. Drawing their swords, and Leliana drawing her bow, they raced in and joined the fight.

Bran, the Warden Commander, heard her war cry and turned his eyes. He was silently thankful upon seeing Edana, knowing that victory would be theirs now that she was here. His eyes widened at the sight of the young Prince, but he quickly turned eyes back towards the rushing enemy. The battle seemed to go on for hours, until finally the last ogre lie slain by Kearney, who had numbly climbed onto the beasts horns and sunk his blade deep into its skull. The remaining Warden's stood panting, desperately trying to catch their breath. "Close the Gate!" Edana cried, and quickly bodies were moved out of the way to make way for the massive chain gate to come down. She turned to Bran, eyes alight with fire. "How long has this been going on?"

Bran was clutching his side where a tainted blade had caught him. His armor had taken the brunt of the swing, but the darkspawn assassin had still breeched it. He would live, for now anyway. "The attacks started about two weeks ago my lady. We were certain that it was just random attacks like usual, but for the past three days they have seemed…" he stopped, as if searching for the right word.

"Organized." Said Edana, finishing the commander's sentence. She rubbed her temples then, and sighed deeply. She had not been having nightmares of an Archdemon, and neither would any of the other Warden's. This was not a sign of Blight, not in the same sense as the one that had happened eighteen years prior, but it was a very bad sign indeed. She could not help to think that there was another force behind this. "Why did you not send word to Denerim?" She asked Bran then. He blinked at her with surprise. "We sent a messenger three days ago my lady. Are you to say that is not why you have come?" She shook her head at him. "No word has been received in Denerim." She watched his eyes soften sadly, if no word had yet been received then the messenger had surely perished or worse.

"If no word has yet reached Denerim, may I inquire as to the intent of your visit my lady?" Edana swallowed, and then nodded gently at Bran. "I have come to seek the council of Avernus."


	25. Chapter 25

He was crouched in the shadows, concentrating hard at remaining unseen. The Imperial Palace was heavily guarded, the slightest alarm would bring so many guards rushing to him that it would mean certain death. The guards ahead of him were conversing, and he was tempted to try to slip by them and would have easily if they hadn't been facing his exact hiding spot. "Did you get a good look at that boy with her?" the imperial guard asked his fellow guardsman. The other gent nodded but remained silent. The first guard continued, "His eyes… They-"He was cut off. "Do not speak of him. They say he can hear what you are thinking. Tobias… Tobias spoke of the boy, and now look at him!"

Zevran was curious to find out what had happened to this Tobias, but they seemed to think better of continuing the conversation. He waited for what seemed like an eternity before the guards parted ways. He began his sneaking again, moving through the shadows with ease. He came to the end of the corridor and made himself as flat against the wall as he possibly could. With quick glances, he stuck his head out to see where the hallway led. He was surprised to see the dark haired witch herself standing in the hall.

He flattened himself to the wall further, his heart beating in his throat. Had she seen him? The witch did not acknowledge his presence yet, merely standing in the hall in silence. Suddenly the sound of a deep baritone broke the silence. "We are not alone mother."

Morrigan let out a slight chuckle. "If you are talking of the assassin, Ciaran, I know. He has been following us for quite some time. Let him have his moment of triumph. Zevran, you can come out of hiding now." The elf swallowed, he had not felt caught in a very long time. Alas, this was not the time to show cowardice.

Zevran stepped from the shadows, a sultry smile painted on his face. "Ah, Morrigan. Still the sensuous beauty I can see." Morrigan rolled her eyes at the Antivan, barely acknowledging him. Zevran's eyes rolled over the witch's profile, and then his gaze shifted to the man standing next to her. It was almost like looking at a living shadow, and his eyes had a hard time focusing on the swirling black that resembled the profile of a man. Suddenly the black seemed to bleed away, and Zevran realized he was staring at the man's back. Zevran felt a pang of fear in his heart staring at this man, even though he had not seen his face.

Zevran swallowed, trying very hard to keep his flawless reserve. "Ah, Morrigan you left without saying goodbye. I was heartbroken you had not stopped to give me a last kiss." Morrigan scowled at the elf, her lip curled in obvious distaste. The man beside her spoke, "It attempts flattery mother even though it knows it faces death. Why the banter Mother? Why do we not simply kill it?" Morrigan smiled at the sound of her child. "We do not slay him Ciaran because he could be of useful information. Certainly he was sent to find us in hopes of returning with vital information. Now that he has found us, I am certain he realizes that there is no return in his future and that death is imminent. However, if I recall Zevran would do anything to be able to walk away with his life intact. And so we must offer him a bargain, my son, his life in exchange for information."

The boy still had his back turned to Zevran, a fact that the assassin found dreadfully unnerving. Ciaran sighed, "I tire of these useless mortal games. Why do we need information from it? What could it possibly tell us that we do not already know? That the Elven Queen gave birth to a son? That she married my simple witted father? It smells of foreign lands and sins of the flesh. It does not possess enough current information to prove its use. I say we kill it." Morrigan laughed then, the cold laugh sending renewed shivers up Zevran's spine. "Ah my dear child, correct you are. He has indeed been gone a long time, but there is another use I believe we may have for him." Zevran could see the boys ears twitch with curiosity. "And what use may that be Mother?" Morrigan smiled icily to herself as she answered. "Leverage."

The boy emitted a chuckle, realizing the meaning of her words. "Indeed leverage. Can you smell it on him mother? His loyalty to the Warden Queen? His disgustingly sweet love for her? How awful it must feel to know that she has chosen to wed another. Nonetheless you are right; The Queen would do foolish things to prevent harm from coming to a companion."

Zevran opened his mouth to spin his artful lies, when the boy turned. He felt all of the fight run out him as he caught sight of the boy's eyes. Now he realized what the guard had meant, those fiery red eyes boring into him and seeing the very secrets he had buried deep within his soul. Those fiery eyes inspired nightmares with in others. Zevran swore he could see something moving under the boy's skin, as if this form he was in was nothing more than a suit of skin worn for clever disguise. Suddenly the by flicked his hand up, and a blinding pain washed over Zevran. He could see his blood running out of his body with every beat of his heart. Zevran screamed in pain, his screams echoing the halls. It was in this midst of pain that Zevran's world suddenly grew black.


	26. Chapter 26

The tower was had always been considered off limits, even to the mage recruits that joined. The tower itself radiated a cold and condemning aura that it was easy to steer clear of it. Edana walked towards the tower door, Kearney and Leliana in tow, and despite its unnatural aura her fearless resolve remained. She grabbed the rusty iron knocker and slammed it down three times heavily. The noise was so loud that it echoed off the mountains, and through the tower. She waited a few moments, expecting the insane mage to fling open the door and scold them, but he never did. She felt a lingering feeling of panic, perhaps the mage had died? Removing her lock picking set she quickly and expertly unlocked the door. Glancing back at her son for a moment, she opened the door.

The tower was as silent as the grave. Dust adorned nearly every surface in the room, as well as webs. Her heart began to race as she walked toward the laboratory door. The last time she was here, he had said his life was nearly over. She pulled open the door to Avernus' Laboratory and immediately sighed in relief. The mage was standing with his back to them, furiously scribbling in his journal. He did not turn to greet them as they walked towards him. "I see you have returned." He said to the Queen, finally turning to face them. Kearney gasped at the site of the mage, nearly convinced that he was some walking corpse.

The mage did indeed appear to be a walking dead, the skin of his face was pulled so taught against his skull it appeared as if it had shrunk. Sores covered his face and hands, giving the appearance of rotting flesh. The prince pulled his sword, and was quickly placated by his mother. She touched his arm to stop him, indicating that she did not feel they were in any present danger. The half dead mage before them walked toward the stiffly. "And to what do I owe this visit?"

Edana cleared her throat, finding it difficult to believe she were here again. She had thought Avernus insane when they had stumbled across him, his talks of killing other warden's to find the secret powers the tainted blood within them seemed the ravings of a madman. Still she had imbibed the vial of fluid, and gained some kind of strange new strength. These abilities did indeed assist with the fall of the blight, but he had never sent for her when the 'true potential' was found.

"I've come to see if you have progressed in your studies Avernus." She said calmly, despite the fact that her heart was racing in her chest. The mage cackled greedily. "I knew it! You are just as I thought, ambitious! To wield the true power of the taint, you would rival a God." Edana was trembling slightly with fear. "Does that mean you have found it then?"

Avernus scratched at one rotten sore, opening a pustule that released some dark and disgusting fluid. "Perhaps I have dear lady, however I will not lie when I say there is a catch. I fear that no Grey Warden alive will be able to survive it."

She furrowed her brow, beginning to feel helpless. "Please explain my friend. I must know what you have found." The mage looked at her with surprise, but continued. "It seems that the only way to really use the taint one must be infected naturally. We Warden have become infected when we imbibe the blood during the Joining. We infect ourselves, it is not passed naturally. I have yet to find a specimen who is infected naturally without putting me at risk of death. There are the darkspawn themselves, but I have not been able to obtain one to study without having the beast attempt to kill me."

Edana swallowed hard then, now really starting to fear her decision. "And if you were able to come across one such creature, is there any chance of your experiment failing?" She asked with her voice shaking slightly. He regarded her with increasing interest, "There are always risks dear lady. You know that. Have you come across such a specimen?" Edana nodded at the mage, and gestured to Kearney. "I have. This is Kearney, my son."

He had a bad feeling about this, watching with distaste as the mage examined him closely, the ancient man nearly squealing with glee. "A fine specimen indeed, my lady. And he was born from you? It was my understanding that a Warden cannot conceive. The Taint seems to kill any chance of bringing forth life…" Edana nodded, "He is indeed my son. He was born to me and Alistair." The mage eyed her with even more surprise painted on his old features. "Alistair? So this is a child born of not one, but two tainted individuals. Curious. So, you intend to let me experiment on the boy?" Edana nodded and Kearney's eyes grew wide.

"Whoa whoa whoa!!! Do I not get a say in this mother? Father has told me that this man is a maleficar! I will not-" He stopped suddenly as mother turned sorrowful eyes to him. "What is this about?" He said to her, his brow furrowed in questioning. Edana sighed, "I had a dream once a long time ago, shortly after a friend died. She said that there was a great war coming. That two brothers of tainted blood would stand leading each army. She told me that you must succeed."

Kearney looked at his mother with confusion. "Oookay… But that would require me to have a brother…" His eyes widen as he reads his mother's expression. "Wait, I have a brother? You and father have another child?" Edana shook her head at her son. "No, the only child born of your father and I was you Kearney. However your father has another child." She explained to her son, and to Avernus about the ritual that Morrigan had performed. "I was selfish Kearney. I love your father so much that I could not lose him."

Kearney looked at his mother, a thousand thoughts running through his head. He had never seen his mother so shaken before, the panic on her face was painted clearly. "Kearney, I cannot regret the decision I made. I need you to do this, and have faith in me."

Kearney swallowed hard, and accepted the goblet that the mage thrust at him. He stared into the black liquid for what seemed like hours, before raising it to his lips. The bitter acidic taste burned his throat, and his stomach threatened to sick the potion, but he forced it down. He barely finished the potion when a burning sensation raced through his body. He heard voices, thousands of voices, all of them screaming at him. He grabbed his ears and screamed back, the room began to go black around him. He fell to the ground, his eyes rolling back into his head as he convulsed on the floor. Before the world completely faded away, he saw a pair of red eyes boring into him. Ciaran! His mind yelled the name, though he had never heard it before. He wanted to recoil from those eyes, fear bubbling in his chest as he gazed upon them. He could feel this thing's evil, and he screamed that name over and over before the world faded away.


	27. Chapter 27

_**I plan to end this series this week sometime. Look for more updates, and a very awesome climactic ending!!! =)**_

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Screams, all he can hear are screams. The screams echo off the walls of his skull and threaten to suck him further into their clutches. He faintly hears the scream of other voices, pleading his name.

'Wake up...'

'How could you do that?! My son…'

*sobbing*

'Please wake up… Kearney please…'

'FIGHT IT! You have to FIGHT IT!'

He barely hears these voices where he is, and all he knows is the constant pain that racks his body as well as the smell of death all around him. These hands held him steadfast in his place and he succumbed willingly to them. Those eyes, he could feel them reaching into his soul. They tore at his memories, at his soul, at his heart. They promised death. Death to those he loved, death to his kingdom, sweet merciful death. Surrender they ask and he felt himself slipping away.

He was aware of another presence, a presence other than the possessor of those awful red eyes. He could hear them breathing, and mumbling. He tried to ignore the whimpers of the other beside him, shutting the out to accept the surrender. To accept the offer of sweet and merciful death.

"Edana…." The voice beside him said the voice obviously male. For a few moments he has to think hard to remember. Edana? Hadn't he heard that name before? "I've failed… Forgive…forgive… mi Corazon… edana….," the voice pleads.

He opens his eyes, surprised to find that there is something other than darkness in this void of despair. He can see another person, held fast by the same hands he is being held by. It is the only other thing he can see other than the endless night, and he weakly raises his head to stare at the man in front of him. It was an elf, a tanned blonde haired elf. The elf kept mumbling to himself, saying her name over and over.

"Who is she?" Kearney asked, and the elf jumps a little. He raised a blood stained face to look at Kearney with questioning eyes. "Another game? I will not give in! You will have to kill me first!" The elf says in a heavily accented voice. Kearney furrowed his brow in confusion, "Game? What game?" He asked. The elf regarded him with careful eyes; there was something about this boy that seemed so oddly familiar.

"Who is she? Who is Edana?" Kearney asked again, studying the elf with careful eyes. The hands that held the both of them becoming so clearly visibly, and Kearney can see his companion's own captors have taken on a twisted sense. Giant talons emit from the elf's shackles, piercing him in the shoulder, hips, and other places that are not pleasant. "He is gone for now…" the elf responds, eyes travelling over the boy with obvious pain in them. "He is gone but he will be back. Accept death my friend, it is more merciful than this…"

Kearney shook his head. "No, not until you tell me who she is. Who is Edana? Where have I heard her name before?" he asked himself more than the elf in front of him. The blonde elf smiled weakly at the mention of that name. "She… she is beautiful." He replied. "Beautiful… Mi Corazon…"

Kearney stares questioningly at this elf, who was not making sense. "Beautiful, but never mine. I have failed her." Kearney tries hard to remember this name. The name itself invokes feelings of warmth within him; the word speaks of affection and love. 'Remember' a voice within him screams, and he swallows hard while trying to pull her face from his battered memory. Edana…

He remembers the fiery topaz eyes; they replace the red eyes in his mind. Fiery topaz eyes and creamy white skin. He remembers camp fires, and the twang of a bow. Kind words, motherly embraces… motherly… mother….

His eyes widen and he intakes a sharp breath. "My mother!" he exclaims, causing the elf's head to jerk up again. "Edana is my mother!" Kearney says again, remembering triumphantly. A wave of memories came rushing back to him, the pores of his brain opening up and flowing. He remembers the vial, Avernus, the dream his mother told him of. And then the pain, the never ending burning pain that followed when he ingested the vial.

"How do you know my mother?" Kearney asked the blonde-haired elf. The elf cocked his head to the side, as if trying to decide if Kearney was telling the truth. "Your mother? How do I know your mother? She tried to kill me! That is how I know her. Ah, so beautiful, so deadly, so untouchable. Edana… Mi Corazon…" The elf said sadly, as if he were trying to reach her through his emotions alone. Kearney regarded this, looking over the elf again studiously recalling the stories he had heard of his mother's companions as a child. "You are the Antivan assassin." He stated simply, causing the elf's eyes to widen. A smile formed on the elf's face then, and he nodded painfully. "Zevran! That is my name!" The elf said happily as if he just remembered.

Zevran's face fell then, and he looked over the boy with studious eyes. He recognized the pale complexion and the white skin he had inherited from his mother. "Why are you here? If he has caught you as well then…" Kearney regarded Zevran, his brow furrowing. "Who is he?" he asked the elf calmly. Zevran's eyes darkened with hatred, and his shackles clutched him heavily, driving talons further into his flesh. He cried in pain, his head hanging for a few moments before he could continue. "He is evil. He must be stopped… You… you have to stop him." Kearney watched as the hands clutched Zevran further. "Who is he?" He screamed at Zevran who seemed to be losing consciousness. "The Archdemon…" Zevran replied hoarsely. "He is coming, you have to get out. Get out! Free yourself and get out! Please… Tell your mother I love her; please tell her I failed… Tell her Orlais! Orlais will invade! You must win! Tell her please…"

Kearney looked at the hands that held him, trying to figure out how to get out of this place. He heard a laugh suddenly, and Zevran cried out in pain. Kearney could see the red eyes again, but instead of fear he felt anger bubbling up in his chest. He fought against the hands that held him and they gripped harder. The anger in Kearney grew, and he growled out loud. The growl interrupted the laugh, and for a moment he could see fear flicker across those eyes. Kearney screamed in his anger, pulling his arms forward with a strength he did not know he had. He felt a fire of rage in his heart, the fire growing bigger as he fought against these captive hands. Suddenly the hands exploded with in a fiery blaze, and they recoiled turning Kearney loose. He ran at those eyes, screaming his rage and feeling the fear in them. The eyes suddenly had a face, and a body, and he stormed this person. Raising a fiery fist, he cocked it back to slam it into the face before him. "No!" He heard a voice scream, and he was thrust back. He felt this reality being stripped from him, heard the screams of the elf, and then the endless black again.

Kearney sat up suddenly, screaming in rage. Strong arms grabbed him, and he fought against them. He looked around, finding the blackness had faded and was replaced by dim firelight. "Kearney! Shhhh…." His mother said, as the boy struggled against her. He spied his father just a few feet away, and as the boy calmed Alistair sank to his knees and prayed graciously.


	28. Chapter 28

**_Two chapters left, maybe three. OMG this story is so climactic I feel like my head is going to explode. _**

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"What?!" Alistair said, pacing around angrily. "Let me get this straight, you took our son to an insane mage who had been dabbling in blood magic, who gave our son a vial of something all to help him kill off an adversary you learned of in a dream? Does anyone else but me thinks that this is all a bunch of rubbish?"

Edana glared at Alistair, her topaz eyes darkening at his condescending words. Kearney stood in the room, leaning against a wall also staring angrily at his father.

"What's better is that our son had some sort of vile hallucination while no doubt intoxicated by that bloodthirsty maleficar, and swears that he saw an Antivan elf by the name of Zevran who claims that Orlais plans to invade. With some embodiment of the Archdemon at the helm? And you want me to send the armies of Ferelden into battle on this alone?"

Edana growled at her husband. "Alistair, you have never questioned me before. I need the armies of Ferelden ready. I have already sent word to the Dalish and the Dwarves, and the Grey Wardens can be ready at a moment's notice. I need the Knights of Denerim and Redcliffe. We have to move fast."

Alistair shook his head at her, firmly folding hands over his chest. "No. I cannot do that. They will not support us if I tell them of this foolhardy logic-"

Kearney spoke, breaking his father off mid-sentence. "Father, it was no dream. This Ciaran, he really exists." Alistair turned to his son, and glared. "I did not ask for your opinion boy. You will speak only when spoken to."

Edana gritted her teeth at the coldness in Alistair's words. "Ciaran is your son Alistair. The embodiment of the Archdemon, you knew this day would come. And now you stand and mock me!" Alistair ran his hands through his hair, torn between supporting his wife and laughing at her. "Morrigan said that she would not seek out-"

"Since when have you ever trusted the words of Morrigan?" Snapped Edana. Alistair grew quiet, his shoulders slumping. She was right, and she was probably right about whole thing, but he did not think that the landsmeet would agree. They still held some sort of anger at the fact she was elf and Queen. Edana's eyes pleaded with Alistair, and he sighed. "Okay, I'll call the landsmeet."

Kearney nodded at his father, who looked around himself forlornly. "Do it soon, I do not think we have much time."

The nobles were fighting, and Alistair was caught in the middle. He rubbed at his temples listening to the sounds of the fighting in the room. Eamon and Teagan were screaming at Wulff and McNeil, Shianni was pointing furiously at one of the Teryna's. The room was chaos and only the royal family were the ones in silence. "Letting a sixteen year old boy lead troops?! He has never truly seen a battle!" shouted Wulff. McNeil pointed a finger into Eamon's chest, and let a string of profanity flow. Edana looked at her husband with pleading eyes, and suddenly Kearney stepped forward. He kicked the table, which spilled over anything it was holding and fell to the floor with a great crashing sound. The nobles stopped bickering in time to step back before they were splashed with wine and wood.

The boy was red in the face, his eyes firm and hard with anger at the actions of the nobles in the room. "I may be a boy in your eyes, but I do not doubt the command of my King. There is a war coming gentleman, one far worse than just a few Darkspawn and one dragon. Can't you feel it? The foreboding presence on the horizon? If Orlais succeeds then your family will be turned into slaves. Your wives and your children slain, your world will be torn apart. WE will have your support, and we will fight."

The nobles eyed this wild eyed boy with wide surprised eyes, as if not sure what to say next. He stood defiantly, his stance proud and commanding. "We must fight. Ciaran is more than just a threat. He is the embodiment of evil, the soul of a tainted old god in Mortal flesh. But I believe he is more than just that. We were given this vigil by the maker to seek redemption for our sins. This fight is our redemption; it is our chance to prove our worth. The mages tried to usurp heaven, and turned it black and brought this plague of despair upon us. For centuries we have stood by and sworn that the Maker has abandoned us, and we have fought a never ending battle against the abominations that damned us all. It is our turn to take up arms and fight this curse, and end it. To show the Maker our faith, and to restore heaven to its golden glory. In the name of Andraste, I beckon your aid. Stand with me and fight!"

The nobles stand awed at this boy, not sure what to say. The truth in his words rang through the room, though fear caused them to doubt. Eamon lowered his head, and then raised it to meet the eyes of the Prince before him. He stepped forward, placing on fist to his chest. "Redcliffe swears it's aid to you, your majesty." He said bowing to the Prince. All the nobles followed in tow, each pledging their armies to them. Alistair nodded proudly at his son, and then looked at his wife. "We leave for the Frostback mountains in a fortnight."

Kearney felt the presence of those eyes on the back of his head, and swallowed. He hoped that they had that much time.


	29. Chapter 29

**_Okay, maybe more than three chapters left _**

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The sounds of camp surrounded him, lulling him into kind of a trance. The fire's crackling embers held his gaze, and his mind drifted. He thought of Ina, and her reaction when he left. How she had cried and begged him not to leave, and how he told her that he felt he was meant to do this. That this was bigger than anything he had ever felt before. The urgings he felt towards this battle were that this was greater than he could ever comprehend. The questions that others had asked, he couldn't give them a straight answer except that he just knew.

He knew of the invasion because of his dreams, but there were times when felt not of himself. He saw things he could not explain, the face of a dark haired golden eyed woman he called mother. The inside of a grand castle, a beautiful woman on its throne with a bloodthirsty look on her face. He heard whispers, the whispers of the Darkspawn from in the Deep Roads. He knew that at the time of the Landsmeet they were boarding ships and moving to invade. He knew they would be waiting for them at the mouth Frostback Mountains.

He had experienced these since imbibing the potion that Avernus had given him. The mage had never answered him, but he believed that it had bound them together. The taint they had was the same, they had inherited it from their father. He was sure at times Ciaran was able to see things through his eyes as well, for he would at times feel so angry he would have to excuse himself before he did foolish things.

He looked at the army around him, to the men cleaning and polishing their armor and blades. To the mages who were casting at trees for practice, and the other's behind him. He saw Leliana engulfed in the arms of Bann Teagan who was locked in a hungry kiss with the bard. To Eamon who was speaking to his son Conner, a very experienced enchanter. To his parents, who could say nothing to one another and only exchange deep glances with one another. The air was positively heavy with the electricity of anticipation.

The air from Lake Calenhad was cool, washing over the gathering armies like icy fingers running over them. Kearney closed his eyes, inhaling deeply the cool air. He began to pray silently, his eyes shut tightly.

He felt lighter than air, caressed by hands that were gentle and loving. A bright light seemed to surround his heart, engulfing him and rendering him wholly speechless. He opened his eyes, gazing at this place of light. In front of him stood a beautiful woman in gleaming silver armor, she smiled at him with kind and caring eyes. Kearney swallowed, standing and gazing at her with awe in his eyes.

"I am Andraste, prophet and Bride of the Maker." She said softly, her words reverberating off of his very soul. He kneeled quickly, dropping his head in respect to her for he could think of nothing else to do. Andraste smiled, gliding over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. Kearney looked up at her, his eyes wide. She pulled him to his feet gently, standing in front of him with his hands in hers. "I have been watching you with great interest for a while Kearney. You were born of a great love in a time of desperation, a sign that even in the face of death beauty can bloom. The blood of your mother and father was tainted beyond, no life should have been created yet you were. Do you know why?"

Kearney shook his head at Andraste, so taken a-back that he could not respond to her. "Ciaran was born of blood magic. The soul of an old tainted trapped by ritual, forced to become mortal. That is why you are here, the Maker did not abandon his children, they abandoned him. This curse was brought on by the actions of men, and you were sent to end it. Kearney, prophet and son of the Maker."

He stood with his mouth open, hardly able to believe what he was hearing and swearing someone had spiked his drink with a dreadful hallucinogen. She laughed, the sound like sooth velvet running over his skin. "Gods must be fought with faith, dear Kearney. Remember that I am with you. Fight this battle, and carry me with you always." He nodded at Andraste, and was pulled into an embrace by her. When his arms wrapped around her, she seemed to melt into him. He closed his eyes as a warm feeling emitted through him, filling him. He felt new strength, a sense of peace like he had never known, and love. When he opened his eyes he was back at camp, and the others were staring at him as if he had sprouted a second head. His mother's eyes were wide, and his father's mouth had dropped open. Kearney smiled, the aura around him glowing brightly.

Ciaran woke up screaming on the other side of the mountains, his eyes wide in fear. Morrigan sat up straight, her eyes wide with questioning. He needn't speak, his eyes told the story that they were in trouble. He exited the tent, walking to where a pale blonde figure stood. "Dispose of him." He ordered, and the shell of a man that once was Zevran did as his captor did command, setting off in the shadows for the battalion on the other side.


	30. Chapter 30

_"I believe in nothing, not the end and not the start"_

Though he was caught in this dark place, Zevran could still hear the sounds of the world around him. He heard and felt all that his body did experience though his mind was caught. He felt himself gliding through the night, felt the cold air of the lake on his skin. How he fought to stop this, break this spell, free himself. Warn her… He had to warn her.

Any time he thought of her, of betraying his captor and breaking these shackles the pain got worse. It beat at him, commanding his surrender, engulfing his soul. He had fought, so long and hard. He was so very tired… The hands that pierced him, they seemed to be growing into him. Becoming part of him. He would soon be consumed, he knew this, and he could not fight it anymore. And yet, even in all of this, he could think of nothing but Edana. He dreamt of her, longed for, and needed her. He kept her face in his mind, always there. It was his life raft as he was drug out to a sea of insanity.

He could hear voices, they were close to him. Voices that seemed very familiar but faint. They pierced his dark prison. He could hear laughter, and smell the delicious smell of cooking meat. The faint sounds of armor as the patrol walked the perimeter. He felt the cold dew of the grass soaking into his boots. He struggled hard in this prison, so hard to free himself. It had been a full day since he was commanded to assassinate the boy. His body followed commands quite well.

_"I believe in nothing, not the earth and not the stars"_

One voice stood out to him greatly amidst all the other sounds, a tinkling laughter. He couldn't place it, but it was a laughter that he had heard in his past often. It was a welcoming sound, one that filled him with warmth. For the first time since he had been thrust into this dark prison he found he could move his body just a little. He felt his toes move, felt the leather of the boots. Then there was the blinding pain as the shackles tightened, and he lost that feeling again.

He heard the boy's voice, and he felt the dark captor smile inside this dark place. He felt his body slinking closer to the boy's voice, closer to the target. The dark presence with him was relishing in the feel of anticipation, relishing the nearness of the kill. The shackled bore down tighter; Zevran screamed inside f his cage. Then there was that voice again, that laughter. He recognized it, a voice he had longed to hear for sixteen years. Edana… She was near.

_"I believe in nothing, not the day and not the dark"_

He felt himself pull back a blade, heard the metal as it came out of its hilt. The dark presence roared in glee, and Zevran felt the wind around his hand as the blade came slicing through the air. Her voice, all he could hear was her voice, and it made him scream again in his head. He had regained enough of himself that his body emitted a low groan as it swung the blade. Suddenly, a noise as the blade sank into flesh. The dark presence roared in anger, and Zevran could smell a familiar scent. The shackles loosened, and he could feel the body in his arms. It's lithe and supple frame, the familiarity of it. Her scent, her breathing… Edana!

_"I believe in nothing but the beating of our hearts"_

Zevran burst through his shackles, his conscious returning slowly. He heard voices around him as they wrenched her from his grasp. He ran towards her scent, holding it in his nostrils. Setting him free of this dark prison. Suddenly there was a white light, and he sprinted towards it. He broke free of the metaphysical prison, towards her.

_"I believe in nothing 100 suns until we part"_

Kearney sat with his hand on the head of the possessed assassin, feeling the man within struggle to come free. He watched as the pale man slowly returned, the eyes filling up with him. Zevran blinked, and slowly he began to see. He saw the raven haired boy, remembered him from the dark place. Kearney swallowed, and then turned his gaze to the other figure that lay on the ground.

_"I believe in nothing not in sin, not in god"_

His father was bent over her, one hand holding pelt to her side. Edana felt her fingers growing cold, felt the poison coursing through her. Alistair was screaming, shouting about an antidote. He looked down at Edana, his eyes full of tears. She smiled weakly though her lips were starting to go blue, and turned her head. Zevran had done the same, and stared at her. His mind fought furiously to comprehend what had befallen here, trying to make sense of the widening puddle of blood he could see beneath Edana, Alistair's tears. Then it hit him, Ciaran had used his body, and when Zevran had made a noise Edana had seen the assassin as he swung at her son. She had sacrificed herself to save him.

He could not go to her. The woman he loved lay there dying by his own poisoned blade and he could not go to her, could not say goodbye… Could not say tell her how sorry he was. He saw her smile at him, though the smile was weak and near death he could read it. Zevran felt his heart shatter in his chest.

_"I believe in nothing, not in peace and not in war"_

Edana turned her head back to Alistair, her body trembling as her life ran out of her. He was sobbing, his hands on the wound. "We'll get it, we'll get it..." He kept repeating, shaking his head as if he refused to let her go. She spoke slowly, feeling her heart thundering in her ears. "I love you Alistair." She said, and he took her icy hands in his. "No, no you can't. We are supposed to go to the deep roads together! Edana please, don't leave me… not now…. Not now…" She smiled at him again, her vision going fuzzy, the pain from the poison coursed through her. She wanted to say she wasn't leaving him, she would be with him always, but she knows she is not good enough. "Goodbye, Ser Templar…" She said with her last breath, her body going rigid as the poison claims the last of her. Once she was still, Alistair pulled her into his arms, kissing her one last time. "Goodbye, my rose."

_"I believe in nothing but the truth of who we are" _


	31. Chapter 31

There was nothing but this pain, this fierce angry pain in his chest that rendered him breathless. This numbing pain that felt worse than any metaphysical prison. This pain he could not fight against, it melted away his resolve and deduced him to tears. Zevran sat in an empty tent, a guarded entourage standing outside to ensure he would harm no one else. Tears he never knew he could cry ran down his face, his hands held out in front of him as if they were diseased. Her blood was still on them, and he refused to touch himself in any fashion.

The King had ordered him into holding, despite Kearney's protests. Zevran had already accepted the fact that he would most likely be beheaded for this, and he would welcome such punishment. He would welcome death, and beg for her forgiveness for a thousand lifetimes if he had to. He studied the shaking hands in front of him, the hands that had served him so well in the past years, his traitorous murderous hands.

The tent flap opened, and in slid Kearney. Zevran glanced up at Kearney, and felt another surge of unbearable guilt when he saw the grief in the boy's eyes. Fighting back sobs, Zevran spoke weakly. "Have you come for my sentence?" The Prince regarded the elf, sitting there with his hands out in front of him and tears streaming down his dirty face. He shook his head, and exited the tent again. Zevran sighed, thankful that the boy had left. His guilt already had a tight hold on his heart, but seeing the boy's sadness made the gut wrenching pain of it worse.

Kearney returned a short time later, an engraved silver bowl in hand. He placed it in front of the elf, and then sat down. Zevran dropped his eyes to the bowl slowly, surprised to find that it was filled with water. He dipped his hands into the bowl, washing the blood from them quickly. Her blood stained his heart, and he was silently thankful it no longer stained his hands. The water turned red, and he stared at it forlornly. "I am going to die." Zevran said to the prince, his voice full of acceptance.

Kearney shook his head, his own heart heavy with the death of his mother. "If you do it will be in battle." He said calmly, watching as Zevran's head snapped up as if to ensure the prince was not making jokes. "Surely the King-"he started, but was quickly cut off by the Prince. "My father does indeed grieve deeply, but he would abide by my mother's wishes. She would never have you condemned to death, especially for crimes you did not commit."

Zevran scoffed his eyes full of disbelief. "Did not commit? It was my blade that killed your mother, my poison that coursed through her veins, and my hand that drove it home. How do I deserve anything but death?" Fresh tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke, the pain in his chest roaring as a fresh wound reopened. Kearney watched the elf with careful eyes, knowing that he would forever blame himself no matter the circumstances.

The tent flap opened suddenly, and in walked Alistair. Zevran braced himself, his eyes travelling over the grief stricken King. Alistair's eyes were red from tears, and his clothes were covered in Edana's drying blood. He stood there, staring at the elf with his hands clenched at his side. Zevran dropped his eyes, for the first time ever regarding Alistair as a superior presence. The silence in the tent was so full of sorrow and tension, if it had substance one could have cut it with a knife. "On your feet." Alistair said thickly, the anger in his voice penetrating the air of the tent harshly.

Zevran stood his hands at his side, and his eyes on the floor. He felt the air move as Alistair stepped forward, and he waited for the man to lash out. Suddenly he was pulled into an embrace, his eyes widening from the contact. The large man clung to him, and Zevran felt his breath hitch in his chest. "She's gone…" Was all that Alistair could say, the tears starting a-new. Zevran hugged back, giving into the grief. There they stood, two enemies locked in an embrace, honoring the woman they had collectively loved.

After a while, they had separated and both men consigned never to speak of the moment shared between them. Alistair regarded Zevran, his eyes travelling to his son. The boy nodded, and Alistair sighed. "Zevran, we need to know what to expect."

Zevran explained to them the Dark captor's plan. Ciaran could control the Darkspawn, and so along with the Orlesian troops they had to contend with them as well. Alistair could not help but feel slightly helpless; two armies were marching against them. He longed for Edana suddenly, realizing that he would be leading these troops into battle. "If I may…" Zevran started, looking to both of the other men in the tent carefully. Alistair waved a hand as if to say continue, and Zevran nodded. Collectively, King and assassin devised a battle strategy.


	32. Chapter 32

_**Sorry to you all for neglecting this for a few days. I will be finishing it this week! Thank you so much for reading and please leave me some feedback on the ending! p.s. I cried like a baby when Edana died. =(**_

Lyrics - Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance

* * *

"'Cause I see you lying next to me  
With words I thought I'd never speak  
Awake and unafraid  
Asleep or dead

I am not afraid to keep on living  
I am not afraid to walk this world alone"

Ciaran stood in the middle of the Great Divide, staring at the remains of an empty campsite. A feeling of unrelenting rage bubbling deep within his chest, they were supposed to be here! The Orlesian Commander at his side scoffed silently, turning to the troops behind him and rejoicing. "They have fled like cowards!" He exclaimed to the troops behind him, which brought the eruption of cheer.

Morrigan walked forward to her son, her eagle eyes trailing over the contempt that was written clearly upon his face. "It does seem a little sudden." She said, reflecting his own awe at the absence of the other army. "Though, without Edana at the helm it does seem like something Alistair would do. He always was the spineless sort. 'Tis an interesting change of events." Ciaran growled angrily, he had been looking forward to the slaughter of his royal family members. "We should march on, and begin taking them down one Village at a time. Until we reach Denerim." He said to his mother as they began walking.

Suddenly a scout behind them shouted and pointed at the Cliffside. All heads snapped in one particular direction as they spied what appeared to be a stone man frozen in place. They stared for a few moments, but the statue was still. The troops began moving again, facing forward. Morrigan began following, an uneasy feeling washing over her. She had seen that statue before, hadn't she? There was something oddly familiar about it. She seemed to remember a great booming voice and the glittering of crystals… Her head snapped up suddenly in time to see the Golem move. It let out a thunderous roar, the very divide shaking with booming resonation. The archers loaded their bows, standing in one place. Morrigan smelled the trap then, turning to her son with wide eyes. He had caught on at this point as well, dropping into a sprint and running with her. The Orlesian commander watched as they began to run, and looked up in time to see the first dregs of snow start rolling down the mountainside. The roar continued, the rumbling echoing off of every crevice.

The commander understood, he turned quickly to his troops and bellowed, "Avalanche! Run!" They began to move, trying to race the snow that was falling down the side of mountain with an alarming rate. Screams of fear erupted from them as the snow swallowed them up like a hungry monster. Ciaran and Morrigan felt the rumble of snow behind them, and suddenly they were both airborne, as bird and shadow. The roar subsided, leaving a mess of snow covered bodies and swords in its midst. What remaining Orlesian troops there were would be cut off from battle by an ocean of snow for at least a few hours.

As Ciaran and Morrigan flew through the air, he suddenly realized the trap in its entirety. Surely if the golem was there, the remaining Ferelden armies were not far off. He could stay and dig out the remaining Orlesian troops, or he could summon the army of the tainted and lead them in siege. From his spot in the air, he could see the glow of campfires from the direction of Lake Calenhad. A grim smile playing over his lips, he looked at his mother and nodded.

Alistair stood still, though his body ached to begin pacing, just outside of Lake Calenhad. The armies behind him stood restless as well, the return of Shale had led them the good news that the Orlesian Army had been officially snowed in. That left the remaining opposing army, though he would rather have fought the Orlesians for a thousand years than face an army of darkspawn. Without Edana at his side, he felt rather helpless. She had always been so strong, so sure. He looked at his son with worried eyes. He wanted to send the boy far from the coming battle but could not. Though it did do him proud to see his boy standing next to him wearing the glinting elven mail Edana had given him, as well as holding Starfang and Duncan's shield in his hands.

They could hear the beating of war drums in the distance. Alistair turned to his boy and nodded. The battle was soon on the horizon, and he felt his limbs alight with anger. Kearney turned to the armies behind him, his eyes travelling over the faces of the warriors there. There was so much doubt on the many faces, so much hopelessness.

"Men, this is not the time to despair." Kearney said clearly, all eyes falling to him. "This is not the time for fear. We fight today to restore, to end this curse. Today is the end of many things, and with our victory we bring hope to many others. We bring to end the Era of innocent deaths at the hands of these fiends. Today we end the blight for good! Raise your sword, draw your bows. Today we fight and die as one nation, Ferelden. Today we fight to restore our faith in the Maker; we fight to restore the heaven that was stolen from us. Today is our most glorious day!" The sight of a thousand weapons raised into the air was indeed a glorious sight.

The approaching drums at his back growing ever louder, Kearney turned to his father. Both father and son fell to one knee, sword in front of them and heads bowed. "Maker watch over us this day, guide our swords. We fight today to redeem mankind for our sins of blasphemy. Andraste, bless our bows. Fill our hearts with courage, and fill our minds with discipline. We carry you with us this day, in our hearts and in our swords."

As the drums of war grew ever more close, all Alistair could do was think of his wife. Without her presence in his periphery, he felt lost among this sea of strangers.

_"I am not afraid to keep on living  
I am not afraid to walk this world alone  
(Or dead)  
Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven  
Nothing you can say can stop me going home"_


	33. Chapter 33

The sky was red, the air filled with an acrid stench that burned the eyes and throats of the men. Kearney blinked away as his eyes watered, and spied the growing presence on the horizon. The looming army of darkspawn had arrived, and he felt a small sliver of fear creep into his heart.

The ground was thunderous with the sound of footsteps, the army of darkspawn growing closer as they began their charge. Alistair watched them coming, the men behind him shifting uneasily, and was instantly reminded of Ostagar. He shook his head to clear it of the lost battle, and turned to them. "Archers on the ready!" he yelled, watching as Leliana and the elves behind them knocked fire arrows and drew the bows.

The thunderous sound grew ever closer, "Fire!" The air was filled with hundreds of arrows, all of them glowing brightly with flame. The first flanks of darkspawn fell, arrows lighting them a-flame and spreading the fire to the ranks behind them. This did not stop the murderous army however; they kept up the advance as they trampled their fallen comrades (if such a word could be used for them).

Falling into a defensive stance, Kearney raised the shield and readied himself for the wave. "Now!" He bellowed, and broke into a run. The armies of Ferelden charged, their cries echoing into the air. The two collided with a scream of metal on metal. Blades bit deep into flesh, and blood gouted from wounds of friend and foe. Kearney quickly side stepped the swing of a warhamer, the Hurlock that swung it falling forward from the critical miss. He turned and lopped off its head, the steel of Starfang singing as it cut through the air.

As they worked their way through the army, Kearney heard a deafening roar. He spun on the spot, only to find a high dragon stomping through the crowds. He had to jump out of its way lest he be crushed underfoot. The dragon was a fiery red color, and he had a moment to wonder if this was Ciaran. The dragon turned its eagle eyes toward Kearney, and he thought for a moment he heard a wicked chuckle before it reared its head to blast fire at them. Suddenly it screamed, and shook its great head fiercely, and Kearney saw a person being tossed about as it clung to the dragon's head. The blonde elf was thrown a few feet, though he gracefully tucked into a roll and returned to his feet.

Sovran pulled a new blade, a smirk on his face as the dragon eyed him contempt. It charged him, pouncing on him as a cat would pounce the mouse it hunted. It flapped its wings, the wind sending the troops around it flying to the ground with the force of it. It bent its head to snap at Zevran, and he momentarily flinched before another cry of pain emitted from between its massive jaws. Alistair sliced at its flank, and it turned its head to snap at him. Suddenly, Leliana was there firing arrows at it continuously, and Shale appeared to be trying to rip a massive wing in half.

Zevran returned to his feet, nimbly climbing the dragon and sinking his daggers into the scaly expanse of the dragon's back. The Dragon flailed its wings and tail, trying to shake off its assailants. Kearney rolled out of the way to avoid the swing of its spiked tail, coming to its underbelly. He stood and thrust the blade upward into the softer flesh of the dragon's middle. This time the dragon screamed, the scream sounding so human. He twisted the blade, and then pulled it out quickly. His hand was drenched with its blood, and he had to jump out of the way to avoid being crushed by a hindquarter.

As he stood, he blinked a few times. The Dragon appeared to be shrinking, and at a very alarming rate. Zevran jumped from it, landing upon the ground nimbly next to the Prince. They all took a step back as the dragon's massive form seemed to grow ever smaller, and began to change shape.

Soon all that was before them was a dark haired woman on her knees, her body bruised and bleeding. She had several cuts on her neck from Zevran's blades, and she slowly turned her head to the Templar who had come to stand beside her. A strange look passed over the woman's face as her gaze fell to Alistair, a cruel sense of irony playing over her mind. He glared down at her coldly, his eyes accusing and angry. The witch let out strangled laugh, the tone of her laughter high and mocking. Alistair's eyes narrowed and he swing his blade. It sliced through the flesh of her neck, turning the wicked laughter into a sick gurgle. A fount of blood poured from the severed jugular, and the witch's eyes stared at Alistair as if in disbelief. She slumped forward, the life in her eyes growing dim as her complexion paled. Morrigan's last image was of Alistair, his hate filled eyes imprinting on her soul as she died.

There was a scream, an unearthly and blood-curdling scream that filled the air as the last convulsion overtook Morrigan and she lay still. The sea of darkspawn seemed to be opening up by a black wave, the shadows moving and clinging together. It swam toward them, throwing the masses in its way to the side. It swallowed up the body of Morrigan, and threw the party to the side as it rushed by angrily. Kearney got to his feet quickly, dispatching a few darkspawn that had strayed into his path. He followed the shadows, his feet carrying him swiftly through the crowd, dodging weapons as he did.

Alistair turned to follow his son, but was suddenly knocked off his feet by a charging ogre. Suddenly a dark cloud surrounded them, and he began to choke as the noxious air entered his lungs. The ogre began coughing and hacking, though it picked Alistair up in its giant hand. He swung his blade as it, hacking at its massive knuckles as his lungs threatened to cease function. The ogre's neck was swelling as it choked on the air also, and with one final motion Alistair drove his blade into the side of its head as the beast brought the hand clutching Alistair to close to its face. The beast fell forward, taking Alistair with it.

His eyes drooped dangerously as his body was void of oxygen. Alistair exhaled heavily, forcing out the poisonous air, to no avail. The world slowly grew black.


	34. Chapter 34

_**There will be two more chapters, because I know you all are dying to know what happens to Alistair. **_

_**Lyrics - This is War by 30 Seconds to Mars (a song they wrote specifically for the game)**_

* * *

She was dead; he could see that clearly as he laid her battered body upon the ground with care. Dead, gone… never to move or speak again. How many times had he wished for that? That she would simply die and cease her endless nagging… Or that he could end her life himself. He remembered feeling contentment when he dreamed of squeezing the life from her, with two hands wrapped tightly around her neck. He would envision her narrow eyes bugging out of her head as her skin flushed crimson and her lips turned purple.

Yet, here she was… Dead and gone. So what was this feeling creeping over him? This twisted feeling that made his eyes water and his heart clench in his chest? He had never regarded the woman with anything other than loathing and anger. She had been hard on him as a child, making him aware from an early age that he was more than a mere human. She never embraced him, never showed an ounce of affection to him, never any kind touch from her. Yet he felt himself mourning her, missing her, and feeling an angry bubble of vengeance in his chest. He raised his hands to the sky, envisioning the spot where his father stood. He began chanting, relishing the feel of the veil thinning as he bid the death magic forth. The spell was cast, and the death cloud enshrouded the area where Alistair fought the ogre. Ciaran smiled wickedly as the last breath of oxygen was choked out of the man who had fathered him, his vengeance satiated… for now.

He envisioned the feel of his father's heart ceasing its beating, relishing in the joy that murder often brought him when suddenly something metal connected with his side, sending him sprawling to the ground several feet away from where he originally stood. He scowled, but stood up quickly, turning to face his attacker. The same cold, evil smile returned to his lips as his eyes connected with his assailant. Kearney stood before him, shield and sword drawn, eyes wild and chest heaving with anticipation and anger.

* * *

_A Warning to people, Good and Evil  
This Is War  
To the Soldier, The Civillian, The Martyr, The Victim  
This is War_

_

* * *

  
_

"Little brother…" Ciaran said as he began to circle his younger sibling. The boy followed his direction, circling his opponent so he could watch his every move.

"You are no brother of mine, shared blood or no."

Ciaran laughed, the boy had spirit he would give him that. "That is no way to speak to the future King of Ferelden."

Kearney grimaced at the thought, rage and anger coursing through him and demanding him to strike the man before him. He held himself, waiting for the perfect strike. "I would rather see Ferelden set a-blaze than see you on the throne."

Ciaran tsk'd his brother, shaking his head in a patronizing manner. "Threat's will not earn you favors."

"Favors? You killed my mother, you kill my people, and you bring death and famine upon my lands. You expect me to bow down, give up, and hope that I will receive the scraps from your hands like some fat Mabari? I am no fool; the moment my back would turn I would find a dagger in it."

"Just as your mother…" Ciaran said coldly, which struck a nerve. Kearney lunged forward, swinging the sword. His heart gave a triumphant leap as the blade swung dangerously close to Ciaran's side, but just as he braced himself for the impact suddenly Ciaran was not there anymore. Shadows dispersed from the spot where Ciaran had just stood, and Kearney fell forward from the force of the critical miss. Sprawling forward onto the grass, Kearney exhaled loudly as all of his air escaped him. The blue blade flew out of his hand, skidding across the grass and out of reach.

* * *

_A warning to the prophet, the liar, the honest  
This is War  
To the leader, the pariah, the victim, the messiah  
This is war_

* * *

He gasped great whooping breaths, trying to pull air desperately into his lungs but unable to keep it. Ciaran walked over to Kearney, kicking him in the hip where the chainmail was the weakest. Kearney groaned in pain, rolling over and grabbing Ciaran's foot as he swung it in a kick again. He pulled to throw his opponent to the ground, but again suddenly Ciaran was no longer there. The shadows gathered a few feet away, Ciaran materialized with arms readied. He flung his hand sharply to the right, sending a wave of energy at Kearney. The veil thinned, the air becoming a deadly blade hurled toward Kearney with deadly intent. Still getting to his feet, Kearney barely had time to jump out of the way. The blade caught his leg, slicing a deep gash there. He rolled, and got to his feet expertly, ignoring the searing pain that had blossomed from his torn calf. He dashed toward his sword, jumping for it as a boulder was hurled at him. The boulder struck his body, pain flaring from his ribcage where the boulder had impacted.

He fell, his world suddenly a swirling vortex of pain and haze. The elven armor was dented, and he could feel something sharp poking him there. He moved and felt something in his chest give, a sickly creaking sensation as he moved. Suddenly the ground beneath him began to quake, the rumbling making it hard for him to get to his feet. He stumbled to his feet, and then carefully tried to run from the spell Ciaran had cast. The pain in his chest and leg were double teaming his senses, and he limped as fast as his feet could carry him.

Ciaran cackled happily as he downed a lyrium potion, restoring some magic. He began chanting again, raising his arms to cast at his younger sibling when suddenly a white hot flare of pain opened up in his hand. He screamed and opened his eyes, only to find a dagger sticking straight through it. Kearney limped quickly, pulling another throwing knife from his belt and readying it at his target. He threw the knife expertly, however Ciaran held up his uninjured hand and repelled the blade as if it were a pebble some angry child had tossed at him. The blade stuck into the ground with a soft thunk, and Kearney cursed. He had been raised to fight with weapons that one could wield physically, and his brother was fighting with weapons he had no knowledge of. A feeling of hopelessness washed over him briefly, much to his surprise Ciaran spoke of it.

"Yes, that's right. This is a battle you cannot win brother. You know it; I can sell your fear and pain. Give in, and I will ensure your death is merciful."

Kearney felt rage bubble within him again, and he ran (limped) for Ciaran with one dagger in each hand. Ciaran lifted both hands, and casted. Suddenly Kearney felt himself rooted to the spot, his mind felt as if he had a million shards of glass pulsing through skull. He grabbed his head, and opened his mouth to scream with the pain of it but found that his lungs would not hold air. The weight of the universe seemed to be crushing him, the very air around him feeling as if it were made of crushing iron. He felt his heart thudding in his ears, his pulse slowing dangerously. The pain seemed to go on endlessly, and he silently prayed that it would end and he would just die. Death would be a sweet release, and the pain would be gone forever.

* * *

_Its the moment of truth and the moment to lie  
Its the moment to live and the moment to die  
The moment to fight, the moment to fight, to fight, to fight, to fight_

* * *

_Carry me with you, always. _

A whisper inside his mind. He could think of nothing more but the end of this pain, the sweet release of death and suddenly that whisper. _Carry us with you always. You must not fail…_

'This is impossible' he thought at the voice, 'He is to strong. I am dying'

…_A war fought of two brothers with tainted blood. I am not certain my son how to spare you this, but I know in my heart this is what I need you to do. _

He heard the voice of his mother, remembered her panicked eyes as she handed him the vial. Then there was the blackness, and the cold pain that followed it.

_The blood is the key… _The ancient mage had spouted on about the benefits of receiving the taint. He felt his own blood running down his leg, and could feel the tainted blood running out of Ciaran. Suddenly he could feel the beating of Ciaran's heart. It was in tune with his own, thudding as if they were one instead of two. He could feel the as it rushed through his veins, as it spilled from the wound in his hand.

As if by instinct, Kearney raised his hands. He felt as if they were made of stone, but he forced the up. Inside him, he felt this surging power as if it were a floodgate waiting to burst.

_The blood is the key…_

He felt himself relaxing, and the floodgate within him opening like a great roaring wave. It washed out of him, this power like a great fire rushing towards the surface of his skin. He screamed with it, his voice returning to him. The spell around him broke a great sonic boom as the magic was violently dispelled. He felt the blood between them roaring with each thunderous beat.

He suddenly felt renewed, whatever wounds he had suffered were no longer apparent to him. This new power was white hot, bright and fearsome. Ciaran looked at him with wide eyes, a feeling of fear creeping into him for the first time. "What have you been hiding little brother?" he asked, his wavering only slightly. Kearney said nothing, merely splayed his fingers as this magic flowed from him.

* * *

_I do believe in the light, raise your hands up to the sky  
The fight is done, the war is won, lift your hands towards the sun  
towards the sun, (Its the moment of truth and the moment to lie Its the moment to live and the moment to die, the moment to fight)  
towards the sun,  
towards the sun,(Its the moment of truth and the moment to lie Its the moment to live and the moment to die, the moment to fight )  
the war is won ( to fight, to fight, to fight,to fight )_

* * *

Ciaran mimicked his brother, splaying fingers out at his sides. The magic flowed out from them, meeting in the middle. The flow from Kearney was white, and his counterpart as black as shadow. They glared at each through this veil of magic, two titans readying for battle. Taking several steps backward, Kearney came to his sword, bending slowly to pick it up. He looked at his brother, who attempted several times to cast but finding that he could not.

Ciaran did not understand at first, but after seeing Kearney grab up his sword he did. They would duel. He summoned an ethereal blade, and faced his brother. Each brother emitted a scream of rage, and charged forward.

* * *

Zevran reached Alistair, fighting his way through the darkspawn. He found the King slightly pinned beneath the body of an ogre, a slight pang of worry washed over him as he pulled him from under the massive beast. He quickly searched for a pulse, finding a weak one beating just below the unconscious man's jaw. Leliana came rushing forward, firing her bow into the gathering horde. "Is he dead?" She asked loudly, her breath coming in and out in quick gasps. "He lives but barely."

Zevran stood, looking around at the horde of gathering darkspawn around them. "We must keep him safe." He nodded at the redhead, pulling his daggers. The numbers gathering around them were great, and he felt slightly overwhelmed. _This is it, I will see you soon my loves._ He readied himself as they began to close in on him and the bard, and the unconscious Templar. Suddenly there was an inhuman cry, and all eyes turned toward the hill where the two brothers stood. All they could see in the distance was two giant beings, transparent but visible. One was in the great shape of a black dragon, the other a fiery white Griffon, and the two beasts were racing toward one another. As they clashed, the magic mixed into, engulfing the hill. Zevran smiled, and rushed forward into the distracted darkspawn with his dual weapon sweep, feeling his blade cut deep into flesh.

* * *

_To the right, To the left,  
We will fight to the death  
To the Edge of the Earth,  
It's a Brave New World from the last to the first  
To the right, To the left,  
We will fight to the death  
To the Edge of the Earth  
Its a Brave New World, Its A Brave New World,Its a Brave New World_

_

* * *

  
_

Their blades connected with great sparks, each brother swinging expertly and parrying blows. Time seemed to stop as the duel waged on, and tainted blood flowed. Kearney raised the shield and blocked a deadly swing, moving back just in time. The ethereal blade sliced through the metal, nicking his arm. He tossed the blade to the side, and looked back up to the red eyes of his brother. Ciaran smirked evilly, and ran forward. As he did Kearney did as well, dropping to a slide as his brother swung at him. She slid past him, and jumped back to his feet. Ciaran turned quickly and swung again, this time catching the blade of Starfang. The brothers were face to face, so close they could feel the breath from one another.

Ciaran snarled and pushed his brother away, spinning to quickly lunge again when suddenly a white hot pain radiated from his sternum. He looked down to find the blue blade sticking out through his ribcage. The ethereal blade flickered and then faded, and he stood there unarmed. He looked to Kearney, who had the handle gripped tight in his hand. An evil laugh slowly oozed from his lips, mocking the boy.

Kearney pulled the blade out quickly, and stabbed forward. The blade bit deep into Ciaran's skull. Suddenly there was a great white light, engulfing him and pulling at him. He felt his soul slipping from him, felt himself dying as the Dragon's soul tried to claim his own. The light shot into the air, piercing the red clouds as if announcing to heaven a sweet release.

* * *

_Carry me with you, always._

Kearney let go suddenly, feeling the magic within him rush forward through the blade. The light glowed brighter than he thought possible, and he covered his face lest he be blinded. The magic that surrounded them engulfed the light, and suddenly there was a great explosion as the soul was released and the magic dispersed. It swept over the entire nation, and not a soul alive in world did not feel the release. The darkspawn on the fields grabbed their throats, mewled and died. Their bodies littered the land, but not one was left standing. The survivors of the army stared at the hill where a single figure stood weakly, the dropped to his knees in prayer.

_A Brave new world..._


	35. Chapter 35

He was pacing again. He couldn't stop it, anytime he was nervous his feet seemed unable to control themselves and so he could do nothing but walk the endless circles until he was dizzy. He was rehearsing what he would say in his head, shaking it furiously when he thought of something silly or something didn't sound right to him. He was mumbling the sentences, in between them calling himself a great blubbering idiot and a number of other equally impressive curses.

She stood with her hands on her hips just watching him with an amused smile on her face. He had always seemed so deep in thought lately, and she was curious to know what had him so completely perplexed that he would neglect speaking to her for hours on end. Then, the attack on the camp where she had killed her childhood and love, he had held her through the night. But since then he seemed distant, withdrawn… She missed his endless joking and optimism.

Finally as he turned to complete another circle, he caught sight of her standing there with her hands on her hips. He blushed furiously, and ran a nervous hand through his hair. Every time he laid his eyes on her, he was rendered instantly speechless save for useless and inane babbling. Edana sat on a stump, crossing her legs and stared up at the fidgeting Templar in front of her. "Penny for your thoughts."

"Err… my thoughts? What thoughts? I mean…. What makes you think I have thoughts…? Wait, did that sound stupid? Of course I have thoughts, hehehe… Uh, but what makes you think I was thinking about us, of course I wasn't thinking about us I was just… I mean I want… Uhm, I just…"

Edana laughed so suddenly that Alistair jumped as if he had been goosed by Morrigan. He frowned down at the giggling elf maiden before him, and suddenly felt very sheepish. "Oh ha-ha, that's right let's laugh at Alistair! He's always good for entertainment! Can't anyone ever take me seriously?" he said, kicking a rock furiously.

Edana's giggles tapered off, and she looked at Alistair again. "It is hard to take you seriously when you do not make any sense. Slow down Alistair, what is on your mind?"

He took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. He kept his eyes closed; maybe if he didn't have to look upon her beautiful face he wouldn't be so apt to make a fool of himself. He began speaking to her of his feelings, how he couldn't ever imagine himself without her. How his head always felt as if it would explode whenever she was near. He opened his eyes then, and found her topaz eyes fixated on him. He took another deep breath and began again.

"I want to spend the night with you in camp, I don't know if it is too soon but I know what I feel for you. I want to experience one night of happiness… in case…"

He didn't get to finish, Edana got up suddenly and furrowed her brow at him. The look on her face was pained and pinched. He stopped talking suddenly, shocked by her reaction. He watched as her eyes darting from his face to the ground and back again. "Or not if you would rather…"

She turned on her heel then, and walked away briskly. Alistair was left in the dust with a look of confusion on his face and his heart suddenly dropping to his feet.

He sat in front of the fire staring into it. She had been gone for hours, and the rest of the part was starting to get restless with her absence. Zevran was talking, but he was not listening. It was not until his ear picked up something about looking for her that he snapped his attention to the Antivan. "No. I'll go." Alistair said, standing before anyone had a chance to protest.

"Surely Alistair you would rather I go. I know how much you detest the forest…" the assassin said with a smirk. Alistair shot him a deadly glare, and shook his head firmly. "No, I will go." And with that he just left the rest of the party standing there with an air of confusion to swim in.

He did not have to look for long; he remembered her saying something about a small pond they had come across as they were entering the forest. She spoke of how she and her friend had played there as children, and how they would fish. He found her wading in the water, with the moonlight on her back. He stood awed by the sight of her like that. It was not until she spoke that he came to his senses.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly, trying to hide the fact she had been standing here in this pool crying. Alistair blushed, and ran his hand through his hair again. "No, I should be sorry. I assumed too much, and was rash in my boldness. I should never have-"

"No, Alistair you did nothing wrong." She turned to him then, and he saw the tear tracks reflecting in the moonlight. His heart clenched in his chest, and he suddenly felt the urge to crawl into a very deep hole.

"If I did nothing wrong why did you walk away?"

She sighed, her breath hitching in her chest. "Because, you are right. One of us might die, at any given time. And I have a feeling one of us is going to die anyway. Honestly, how can we come up against a dragon and expect to live?"

She turned to him then, and waded to the shore. She reached out her hand to him, and he took it in his own. She pulled him into the pool gently, wading back to the spot she had previously been standing. She looked at the moon, and then she looked to Alistair. "I… I love you Alistair."

He swallowed hard, his heart jumping into his throat and his head swimming with her words. She smiled at him, and then began to sob. "I love you so much. I am terrified of you, of the dragon, of the end. I do not think I could survive losing you."

He reached out and turned her face gently up to his. With a calloused hand, he wiped her tears away. For once, it was his turn to be her pillar of strength, and he rose to the occasion nicely. "My love, if I die tomorrow in battle, or a hundred years from now, I will die a blessed man. You make me what I am; you make me want to be better. To be stronger, and faster, and courageous. I feel like I could do anything as long as you were nearby. If I die tomorrow, I would die happy because I have you." He bent down then, and captured her lips in a kiss. The kiss was gentle, passionate, and perfect. Soon they were upon the shore, their armor in a pile not to far. He stared at the perfection in her skin, shivering as she ran her hands over his muscled flesh. They both shivered with anticipation, and she pulled him to her.

He opened his mouth to protest suddenly, his virginal nervousness overcoming him. She shook her head at him gently, instantly silencing him. She lay back and pulled him with her, losing herself in his massive form above her.

Afterwards she lay on her side, her naked form pressed against him firmly. He kept kissing her temple, and tracing one hand over her hips. "I don't want to go to sleep." He said finally, making her turn her head to him.

"If I go to sleep, I am afraid I will find this was all a dream." She smiled up at him, and turned completely to face him. "It is no dream Alistair, I am here." He kissed her on the nose gently. "Well. Then I guess I can sleep only if you are here."

He wrapped her up in his strong arms, and drifted into sleep. She nudged him, and nearly jerked awake. "Wake up you are snoring…." He faded out again, and then there was another nudge.

"Wake up Alistair…."

I don't want to wake up, he thought angrily, still relishing the feel of her against him. If she is not there, I will never wake up again!

"You have to wake up. You are King."

What is a King without his Queen? Go away, let me be. I just want to hold her a little longer.

"But I am here my love. I am here and I will always be here. It is not your time, you are not ready. You must wake up."

I don't want to… please don't make me.

"Alistair?"

Edana?

"I love you."

I love you too…

"Please wake up…."

Alistair opened his eyes, grimacing at the light and the searing pain in his head. "Oh thank the Maker! Zevran, Teagan, Kearney! He is awake!"

For a moment he thought it was Edana before him, but slowly her face faded and he realized it was Leliana. He groaned, and tried to sit up before he was pushed back down by the bard's nimble hands. "He lives!"


	36. Chapter 36

Here it is Kiddies, the bittersweet end. Thank you all so much for your reviews, and your kind words. I hope you all like it. I was not impressed with the last few chapters, but I am happy with this one. Again, thank you all so much.

Poem is called "To my Dear and Loving Husband" by Anne Bradstreet.

Lyrics - My Heart by Paramore.

* * *

_This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
This heart, it beats, beats for only you_

This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
My heart is your's  
This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
My heart is your's

This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
My heart is your's  
This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
My heart, my heart is your's

My heart is your's

Life without her was proving to be harder than he had ever imagined. Following the victory at Lake Calenhad, life in Denerim had returned to normal. For some anyway… When they returned there were celebrations everywhere. By day the streets were filled with merrymaking, and by night the streets were littered with drunken bodies. For one straight week the celebrating continued, until blessedly it stopped. That is when the mourning truly began. A grand funeral was ordered for Edana, and all of the soldiers that died during the battle. Alistair was among the commoner's, mourning along with them as if he possessed no title at all. The landsmeet had voted for a Statue depicting Edana, for her heroism but Alistair vetoed the idea. Edana would not have wanted that. For her, dying for her country was the greatest honor she could have had. She would not want to be immortalized in statue.

He compromised with them. At the mouth of the Brecilian Forest a statue was built of an Elven maiden in war gear. Though it did not resemble Edana, it did resemble her culture and people. Following her death, Alistair donated a generous sum of money to the Alienage in Denerim. He ordered the houses to be restored, raising the elves from their previous state of Poverty. The Orlesian Empress attempted to make a diplomatic apology, one that Denerim did not accept. For six years after the victory at Calenhad, a war waged between Denerim and Orlais. It ended only when the Empress was mysteriously assassinated, though her assailant was never found. Alistair did note that Zevran, who had taken a position in court as an advisor, had taken a two week vacation. Alistair had inkling, and rumors spread around Denerim that predicted the King had sent his pet assassin to dispatch the Empress, but they were not true. If Zevran did assassinate the Empress, he did it of his own accord.

With the Darkspawn threat gone, the Grey Wardens were made into an elite force. No longer was a joining ritual needed as no more darkspawn lived. They modified the ritual, making it a lot less lethal to the recruits. Those remaining Grey Wardens, who had successfully completed the joining by imbibing the taint, Alistair included, were still walking time bombs. The taint that flowed through the veins was still killing them slowly, but now there were no darkspawn in the Deep Roads. Because of this, when their time came they simply disappeared. Where they went no one knew, but they knew that they were dying in battle and with valor.

Kearney was declared a prophet by the Chantry, though in the following years they seemed to regret the decision. He was an avid voice among them, changing belief's and rules. Voices rose against the Prince, questioning the fact he was a prophet and damning his beliefs. Those in the Chantry who disagreed broke away, forming their own version of the Chantry. It was not popular, some branches in the neighboring Antiva and Orlais finding themselves persecuted and slain. In Denerim they were called heretics and liars. It was not soon after that the church left Ferelden, in search of a land free from persecution. A land they never found.

The years passed slowly, and his health began to fail. The taint began to sap his strength, his heart weakening with each passing day. Nine years to the day, he stood in his bedchamber staring into a mirror. He was dressed in his finest today, being a special occasion. Today was the day his son would wed, and for once in a very long time Alistair felt happy. He thought of Edana much this day, but missing her did not bring sorrow over him like in previous days. Today he was happy to see his son become a husband. Alistair stared at his graying features, noting the paleness in his face. He knew it would not be long until he would die. There was a knock at the door, and he turned in time to see Leliana walk in. He smiled at the bard, who had wed Arl Teagan after the battle at Calenhad. Eamon had taken up a place at Alistair's side, relinquishing his title and allowing Teagan to become Arl of Redcliffe. Leliana had wed Teagan shortly after, becoming his Arlessa and bearing him children. Alistair was proud of the bard, seeing her happy in her finery. He welcomed her embrace, hugging her tightly as he would had he a sister.

"Today is a happy day" She said, looking over Alistair sadly. Her eyes noted his graying hair, pale complexion and dark circles. He nodded and smiled, seeing the concern on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, and he shushed her by shaking his head. "Let's not speak of it." He knew she was about to say something about his late wife, and it was not that he didn't welcome Edana's memory. He simply needed to keep his clear head for his son's sake. He carried the memory and love for his wife with him, today as their son got married they both stood proud. He took Leliana's hand, and walked with her out of the room.

Kearney stood at the head of the church, his knees feeling weak. It was amazing how he had so much bravery during battle, but seeing his bride today made him feel as if he were being held up by very weak thread. All eyes were on him this day, and their gaze made him feel even more nervous. His eyes met his father's, and he gave a small smile to the man. Suddenly, a voice rose above the crowd hushing them. Leliana stood in a pew, her voice signaling the arrival of the bride. The doors opened, and in walked Ina. Kearney's heart rose into his throat as his eyes met her form. She was dressed in the most beautiful white gown, red roses woven through her dirty blonde hair. Her green eyes glistened with tears as she walked forward to him, her hands full of lilies. Suddenly the world ceased to exist, and all that remained was his beautiful bride and himself. When she reached him, he took her hand in his. Together they vowed their love and loyalty to one another, and as the Revered Mother introduced them to the crowd he pulled her into a kiss. The roar of applause echoed through the chantry hall as with a kiss they sealed their union.

After the wedding feast, the celebration rode on into the early hours of the morning. He found himself tiring, weakening. His eyes fell to his son, and his new daughter. He silently excused himself, and they both nodded as Alistair left. He entered his chamber, shutting the door behind him quickly. He barely made it to the chair before his legs gave out from under him. He sat trembling in the chair, his heart galloping in his chest. He closed his eyes, his heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears. Was this it? Was this how he would die? He thought of Edana, and waited for death to take him. Soon his heart slowed back to a normal rhythm, and he opened his eyes. A book lay on his bed, one he did not recognize. He stood weakly, and walked to the bed where he sat down next to the book.

He ran his hands over its battered exterior, the gold embossed words barely readable anymore. "The Rose of Orlais" it read. He pondered over this title for a few moments, trying to remember where he had heard it before. Something was stuck in the book, and carefully opened it the page where the marker was. His breath caught in his throat and tears leaked from his eyes. There in the book was a pressed dried rose, one that he had given her nervously twenty six years prior. He picked the brittle flower up carefully, staring at its blackened petals. He smiled, and then looked down at the book. A passage had been circled, and he read it carefully.

_If ever two were one, then surely we.  
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee;  
If ever wife was happy in a man,  
Compare with me ye women if you can.  
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold,  
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.  
My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,  
Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence.  
Thy love is such I can no way repay,  
The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.  
Then while we live, in love let's so persever,  
That when we live no more, we may live ever._

He felt as if she were there in the room with him, so close to him he could smell her. It was his time, he knew it.

When the morning came, news was brought to Kearney that his father was missing. They sent a search through the castle and market district in Denerim but it returned unsuccessfully. When they entered the King's chamber, they found that his golden armor was missing as well as his swords. Kearney smiled sadly, knowing what had befallen of his father. He would go into battle, and fall to be by his wife's side.

The Brecilian Forest is where Alistair met his fate, and as his life bled out amongst the monstrous Sylvan's he smiled. He could see her, though his world was growing black he could make her face out as plain as day. Her raven hair, her topaz eyes, her milky skin… He reached a hand up as his heart gave its last weak beat, and grasped her hand in his. The last words his ears ever heard were those from a phantom, its voice speaking from within him.

"Welcome home, Ser Templar."


End file.
